Serpent Handler
by Nimrowdel
Summary: A story of Professor Sinistra and Professor Snape, and how they use their talents to avoid catastrophe in the times leading up to the Last Battle. SSSS
1. Start with a Bang

It was a warm autumn, the trees were just beginning to turn and the air swept dry, lingering summer scents up the tower. The sun-baked stones of the parapet were still hot under my dry palms, and I rubbed them over the rough rock fondly. The sunset signaled the start of my work day, the golden streaks amongst the pink expanse an invitation to the hiding stars and the students. The night's lesson plan ran quickly through my mind as I bent to raise the telescope's tripod, my hair falling tangled over my eyes. I brushed it back and gazed around my paradise again.

This was my home, my nest in the sky. Voldemort didn't exist up here, neither did my family, my marking book, or any other of my problems. It was a perfect night forming before me, and I fiddled with my prized telescope again, my fingers dancing in anticipation. Tonight would be a long night for me, for after the students left the real work would begin, my passion coolly ignited like the frigid flames of the stars burning so far away. It may seem sad that my dearest companions were burning balls of gas, but they had been there to admire and with whom I could have one-sided conversations since a long ago childhood.

A click, followed by a rasp caught my attention. The trapdoor shifted up, and the grayed top of Dumbledore peeked over.

"Professor, would you care to accompany me to the Great Hall for dinner?" He smiled at me, in the fatherly way he treated all of his broken-winged foundlings. I didn't want to break my serene meditation and preparation for the overwhelming cacophony of the Hall.

"Thank you, Headmaster, but I think I'll stay here tonight." I smiled back, to soften my words, hoping he wouldn't insist.

"I'm afraid I insist." There was that damned twinkle. I sighed. There was no way around it.

"Why?" I could feel my evening slipping away, through my fingers like peaceful waters disturbed.

"The students have not seen you in weeks except in classes, nor have the teachers except at faculty meetings. I cannot have a professor seen as aloof from the rest of the school, we need to stand together." I knew it was true, though I didn't like it. Even Snape came to meals regularly, though how he grumbled. The Headmaster had quite cruelly redesigned our teacher's quarters as to be bedrooms only, and no place to hide one's self away. If we wanted to relax, it had to be in the teacher's lounge, forcing us all to be social. Likewise, our offices were for working, and poorly equipped for enjoyment. Filch had been on cloud nine the day he went around stealing our comfortable chairs and cozy décor. There was a theory between some of the staff that he had set up a palace down there with all of our furniture, but I knew Dumbledore would never allow that.

I had escaped, though. I had my tower, which only infrequently was occupied by students trying to complete charts and diagrams. Dumbledore was still there, gently boring holes through my brain with his all-knowing eyes. I followed him back down the trapdoor, lifting my robes so they wouldn't catch underfoot and send me down the ladder to land on my backside down below on cold, hard floor as they had done so many times before. He took my hand in a gentlemanly fashion as I neared the bottom to ease my dismount, and my feet hit the floor softly, robes settling in a black swish.

The hall between my office and my bedroom was little bigger than a broom closet, and if I took the door on the left, it would lead to my bedroom, and same way the door on my right would lead me to my office. We didn't take either door. Another trap door sat below the ladder up, and it revealed another ladder down further to the main stairs that wound a dizzying circle. We didn't speak much, just pleasantries and being British, spoke of the weather.

As predicted, the Hall was madness, children talking and eating noisily. It was not that I didn't like children, it's that I liked my privacy better than ruckus. Predictably, I was guided to a seat on the end between McGonagall and Snape, in other words between a rock and hard place. They were both, in their own ways, good people but they couldn't keep their claws out of each other long enough to have a civil dinner. This was going to be a long night.

Less than an hour later, all my fears had come true. I sat as far back in my chair as possible to avoid the angered voices that came in volleys from either side, rasped words about something as silly as a Quidditch game. The migraine that blossomed was expected, and I pressed a shaking hand to the back of my head from where the pain seemed to sprout. I needed somewhere cool and dark, and most especially quiet. This brightly lit room of chaos was already sending my stomach churning.

I shoved my chair back, and could feel the blood draining from my face as the world grayed a moment. It passed, and I sent an apologetic look to the Headmaster on my way out, but his eyes were glazed over, deep in thought. Snape and McGonagall had hardly noticed I had left. Oh well, no one to call me back, and I escaped the Hall and wound my way around to my tower's base. The pain was overwhelming, and I slide down the wall at the base of the stairs with my eyes closed.

I have no idea how long I sat there, or if I slipped off asleep, but I woke with a start when the tower door clicked open. The pain lingered full force, and my sight was blurry. I saw a man who crouched before me, his deep voice indistinct and his words lost in the fuzz of my mind. With careful hands he drew me up by my forearms and tipped my face up towards the light. There was a murmur, and I wanted to sit back down, my head threatening to implode in on itself, every nerve wound tight to the point of breaking. I could feel his hands turning me around, and a gentle finger press against where my neck met my skull. A sob escaped me, and he stopped. The inviting wall met me again, and I leaned against it once more.

" . . . Madame Pomfrey. . . " I heard two words clearly come from him, and my delicate insides heaved when he picked me up with a grunt. The light fabric of his robes felt very rough against my face, and I could feel my dangling feet bounce with everyone of his steps.

The light was terrible inside the castle halls, and when he finally delivered me to what I presumed was a hospital wing bed, I emptied my stomach in the first receptacle offered. A woman cooed and scolded me at the same time, and I ignored her. The man closed the curtains, creating a dark space, and opened a window above the headboard. The woman poured something simply awful down my burning throat, and I felt the sickness recede, leaving only a painful migraine.

The two voices mingled in conversation, the female instruction an apparently unwilling male. Warm hands touched me again, touched my neck and shoulders in firm, swift movements and the awful tension drifted away under his ministrations. These went on for I have no idea how long, but the man would have had my purring if I hadn't been otherwise distracted. Finally, a cloyingly sweet potion was lifted to my lips, and I drained it.

Minutes passed, my hearing and sight became more focused, but the urge to sleep overrode it all. I looked around the room. Madame Pomfrey seemed satisfied, but had the suspicious look of someone who was going to give me a piece of her mind later. The identity of the man sitting unconcernedly on a corner of the bed sent my eyes as large as saucers. Severus Snape? I drifted back against the bed as blissful sleep captured me. . .


	2. Time for a Belt

Author's note: This chapter is for Andrew.

When I awoke a few hours later the room was dark, and I was alone. Physically, I felt fine, better than most nights in fact since my muscles had been reduced to butter, but I knew Madame Pomfrey was famous for mothering. That, and the look she gave earlier, that You-Will-Soon-Be-Receiving-A-Piece-Of-My-Mind glance did not give me much reason to stay there if I could escape. Which I could.

I pulled my legs out from the sheets and the bare pads touched the tiled floor with bursts of nerves telling me it was frigid. Oh well, they'll survive. She'd stolen my socks and shoes, there was no doubt about it, but at least I had my robes intact. I crept to the still-open window and checked the moon. It told me I had missed my class, but the night was still young.

Moving as quietly as possible, I gathered my robes in one hand, and peeked around the corners of the curtains surrounding my bed. No one. I tip-toed out, biting my lip in concentration. No Madame Pomfrey. No Snape. No Dumbledore. Perfect.

I followed the hall around and around until I came to the base of the astronomy tower. My feet were numb, but I had managed to avoid all students and teachers. The stairs up grew even colder, until I had to sit down on a step part way up and rub them warm. No regrets for running from the hospital wing, but this wasn't fun.

When I got to my room it was with a great feeling of relief. The hardwood was refreshing, and I skipped over to my dresser and pulled out my warmest, tallest, bright red socks. Then, as I sat on my bed to pull them on I saw him.

He sat in the shadow of the corner, the one furthest from the bed. He made no move to stand up, and I knew I looked a fright, having just woken up and left, long hair rumpled and one sock still hanging from my hand.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, a curious catch in my voice. Professors just didn't show up in other professor's rooms in the middle of the night.

His behaviour was coarse, but gentlemenly, and he came out of the shadows holding a metal cup. He didn't say anything, he just took my chin in his hand, and tipped the frigid liquid over my lips in a professional and efficient manner. I felt numbness spread throughout my body, through the cracks in my mind and my last desperate thought had been that there was work to be done tonight.

He took his leave of me and departed. In the blissful solitude I crawled onto my bed and was asleep until mid-morning light burst through the window.

"Honestly, Dumbledore, it was just a headache. I'm perfectly capable of teaching tonight." I was getting annoyed at the old man, and annoyed at his opulent office, and even annoyed at the primping Fawkes. _Stupid bird's so darned good looking it makes me feel like I just crawled out of a garbage dump._ He appraised me soberly, and the silence made me itch. "If I had just gotten all the way upstairs it never would have been such a fuss."

"Oh? And how long have these migraines been going on unchecked? From what we experienced yesterday these things are incapacitating, and I cannot have one my teachers clumsily trying to treat their own problems when we have a professional medi-witch on staff."

I firmly kept my eyes from going to the floor like a child reprimanded.

"Years." It came out in a whisper.

"Pardon me?" Dumbledore was not amused.

"I said- I said years."

"Professor Sinistra, that is the most foolish thing I have ever heard. I had no idea I had employed someone so irresponsible that they would ignore their health out of pride, compromising the quality of the education of the students."

I felt wretched. There was no point defending myself, because he had just laid the truth flat out on the table. A papery hand touched my cheek and I met his eyes, his unwavering in their criticism, but gentle.

"Promise me you'll see Poppy about it? No more suffering alone?" I shook my head in a agreement. "Good, that's the woman I hired." He sounded satisfied, and sat back down on the other side of his desk, clasping his hands firmly. "That brings me to the second reason I wanted to speak with you." He gave me a moment to calm down, and wipe the glisten from the corner of my eyes.

"Sir?"

"It's time for your skills to come into the sunlight, Sophelia. We need it for the war effort, and no one else will do." He gazed at me gravely. Thoughts choked in my head.

"But- oh- no- you couldn't mean? But- but, Sir!" Tears that had been threatening before spilled freely down my cheeks with the horror of what he was suggesting. Of course he knew of my talent, it was what made me so good at her job, but what he was suggesting was terrifying.

"Yes. Go to dinner, eat something, go upstairs and think it over. You know it's the only way we can do it, the only way to win this war before it claims the wizarding world's children. I know it has been heavy on your mind. I know you have thinking, planning for months now, I can see it in your eyes."

Oh no, I couldn't. Too many lives, too much responsibility. He stood, and I mournfully rose as well, and wandered blindly into his bathroom. Shutting the door softly behind me, I heard Dumbledore's foot steps lead away, probably back to his desk. I looked at myself in the mirror. It told me a looked like hell, and I was inclined to agree.

There she was. The girl who was supposed to save Hogwarts. I had to give Harry Potter the chance to defeat Voldemort, and protect the school and the children's lives at the same time. My eyes were dark under the lashes, too dark to reveal their ice grey colour, and my long hair tangled unbecomingly where anguished hands had grasped. But I looked young, young and naïve. I was only in my late twenties, not even a touch of grey streaking my hair as a sign of experience and wisdom. And I was going to save Hogwarts.

Dinner was the usual affair of students and teachers, delicious smells and tastes and of course, noise. I slipped in early, and found a seat on the end of the table. Snape sat beside me, since Minerva was giving him dark glances from the other end that suggested he was not welcome there, or anywhere near her tonight.

"Feeling better, Professor?" He made an effort to be polite, and I found his rich voice soothing in my ears, covering the shrill voices of excited children.

"Yes, though I was very surprised to find a certain potion's master in my private bedroom last night." I kept the statement low, to avoid scandalous rumours.

"Madame Pomfrey has a large numbers of escapees among the faculty, so after brewing your potions I waited for you to sneak back to your rooms. It saved me a great deal of searching." A smile touched his face. Let it never be said that Severus Snape never smiled, for he did, just never around those who might mock him.

"Well, thank you, since I was in no shape to thank you at the time." In the moment of the conversation, I grew unaware of the pounding chaos of noise around me, and was in a world of peace and soft caresses of sound.

"Forgotten, Sinistra. Just doing my job." We continued to talk amiably the rest of the meal.

When the pudding appeared on the tables, I absently poured my heavy clay mug half full of coffee and half full of hot chocolate and Snape watched the procedure with amusement. He continued to smirk as he reached into his robes, and unscrewed the lid of a silver flask.

"I'm afraid I'm starting to look like Moody." He joked darkly, glancing in Dumbledore's direction, who was looking the other way. Lowering his own coffee mug, he poured a splash of smooth liquid in, and gave it a swish to mix.

I offered mine to him in an uncharacteristic display of rule-breaking. It had been an odd day, and he administered the same dose to my mingled mixture.

"Anti-dunderhead potion." He mumbled, taking a sip of his coffee and sighing. I chuckled, feeling better than I had in a long time, even before I drank deeply of the spiked dessert coffee.


	3. Maps, Charts and Graphs

It was a late night, the late night I had predicted yesterday before my incident. Albus had told me to think it over, to think on his desperate offer of giving me the defensive keys to Hogwarts, but he was right, I was the best and I was the only way to save the school. It would be very likely that Harry Potter would defeat Voldemort, but that victory would be hollow if Hogwarts and generations of wizards were destroyed in the process.

However, if I were to do this, I would have to shove back the memories that haunted me, the ones that rode through my dreams whenever I spent too long at my charts. It would be the most difficult thing I ever did, but I would do it. I knew I would. Life and logic aside, it was the only way to redeem my past mistakes that had such a terrible price.

Dumbledore was correct on another score too. I had been secretly planning already, itchy fingers drawing maps, graphs, charts and planning movements. Stars schmars, astronomy was only a bare sideline to my true gift. I was a first class military tactician and strategist. I studied it wildly since childhood, all the masters, and a natural gift for the art blossomed me to their level by my late teens. Warmongers clamoured at my door, once they were convinced this wisp of a girl knew her stuff. I turned them away for years until. . . I stopped the train of thought.

The doors of my armoire flung open with a wave of my wand, and I _accio-_ed the long, fat tube hiding at the back. In it was a secret treasure more dear to me than any jewelry or lovers letter. It was my graphs and charts of every idea or maneuver of which I had ever heard or thought. Biting my lip at the pleasure of seeing them again, and trying to hold it back, since war should never be enjoyed, I magicked my large desk clear, objects flying to empty spaces around the room, and my papers unrolling and spreading themselves flat and ready for me. Knock knock knock.

I looked around, thinking something had fallen during my magical spree. Knock knock knock. No, it was the door. I glanced over at my mess, and then the door.

With a sinking feeling I knew that no student would be up this late at night and wandering the long way up the astronomy tower. I unlocked the door with a cautious spell, and opened it just enough to peek at who was on the other side. Snape's curious face met me, and his eyes slid past mine without meeting them to the crack of room before waving a tall, skinny roll of heavy scroll cloth-paper.

"A gift from the Headmaster. I don't know what it is, but he said you would be pleased to see it." I turned it over curiously in my hands, looking for a way to open it.

"From the Headmaster? Not that I'm not grateful for your trouble, but why didn't he bring it himself?" A dry look appeared on Snape's features.

"Apparently I'm the only one young enough to brave your stairs without taking naps in between." I was surprised a moment. Was I really that inaccessible to the rest of the staff? No wonder Albus was concerned.

"Oh. . . Well, thank you very much then, Professor." At my words the scroll unraveled onto the floor revealing something that left my face pale and my breath quickened. I flung open my door and dragged it to my desk, smoothing it carefully over the others. It took up the whole space, and I was overwhelmed. Here before me was an accurate map of Hogwarts proper, the grounds, the Forbidden Forest and Hogsmeade.

"Dumbledore you wonderful, brilliant man, I love you!" I exclaimed merrily. In the spot where the Headmaster's office was placed, a tiny old man with a gray beard blushed and grinned. From behind me I heard Snape groan.

"It seems the Headmaster has taken a page from the Marauder's book. What is the world coming to?" I didn't know he had followed me in, or that he was learning over my shoulder peeking until he spoke. He curled a corner of the map up in his hands, and below were her charts. "Professor, what is all this?"

I pushed the map back down.

"A hobby, Snape." His disbelief was apparent.

"Yes, I'm sure all astronomy teachers fervently study military strategy in their spare time."

"No need for sarcasm, Severus." I drawled his name as I spoke it, tasting the syllables on my tongue. He seemed a little shocked at my behaviour, but recovered with grace. A thought flickered behind his eyes, which were intent on my desk. A wash of guilt told me my words were uncalled for, and I rolled up the large Hogwarts map.

"Come with me." Snape followed me out of the room, and up the precarious ladder to the top of the tower where the night sky spread in all directions. Leaning on the parapet, I felt him settle beside me, looking over the lake and decided that he should know with whose small hands his school rested. He spoke while I choose words to explain the situation.

"Dumbledore is gifted in many areas, but he is not capable of defending Hogwarts if it came to a battle. That is where you come in, isn't it." The statement rang through the night.

"How did you know?"

"Well, there is the fact that Albus could not protect the Philosopher's Stone from a bunch of first years, and even with the help of all the staff and faculty." I stifled a laugh, but an idea had caught fire in the back of my mind. "And then Albus sends me up to your room with a detailed map of all this." He waved with his hand to the area around the tower. "And when I get there you have a desk full of tactical charts and military history. Finally, your experience as an astronomer only supports the theory that you have a talent for these matters."

I was silent. His proof was impossible to refute, and really there was no need to.

"So how can I help." I blinked a few times, the idea still spinning its web.

"You want to get involved in this?"

"Don't be daft." He nearly snapped. "This school is my life."

"I know." The whispered answer made him blush.

"I'm sorry, I treated you like a student just now."

"I have been acting like a silly first year. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

I reached over to pat his arm in what I hoped was a reassuring manner, but as I made contact with his sleeve he jumped away.

"Don't say that." He hissed, face hidden in shadow. "I carry more shame than anyone at this naïve school. Like a poisoned flesh I taint the healthy around me."

"Severus, you are a changed man. That was the past."

"It will never leave me! It clings to me like death, and I cannot escape it." He thrust the dark mark, that ever-burning flesh into my face. The air was thick with tension, and I did not know what to do. With my fingertips I pulled his sleeve down, and rebuttoned his cuff, repairing the ones that had broken off with the force of their removal. This time I used to consider my response.

"You are not the only one with secrets, Severus Snape, nor are you the only one hurting from past mistakes. Just because I lack have your dramatic flair, please do not assume I could never understand your pain." I finished the last button and he drew the arm back to him, fiddling with the cuff.

"I will help you in any way I can, Sophelia. Goodnight." And he disappeared down the trapdoor. I stayed, gazing at the stars and wondering if someday I could know people as well as I knew them.


	4. Nose to the Grindstone

I didn't leave my tower for the next week. Food appeared several times a day, and occasionally I slept a few hours at a time or bathed. The first draft was finished. The map in one arm and an exact list of notes in the other I burst into the staff room.

"Everyone in Dumbledore's office in five minutes!" Turning on a heel I made my way there too. Once every faculty and staff member arrived I started working. It took them a moment to adjust from the fact I wore a muggle T-shirt and jeans with my hair tied back in a knot that threatened to collapse at any minute, and to understand what I was saying, but eventually they did. My audience's eyes stretched open when Dumbledore's masterful map mounted itself in thin air to be viewed by all.

"We have a battle on our hands, ladies and gentlemen. Those Death Eaters are going to hit us hard soon, and we need to be ready. It's probably going to take all winter to get there, so here it is." Red and green number flew over the map and settled over areas. I used my wand as a pointer.

"Everyone of you is going to have to contribute your talents, skills and gifts to the defense of Hogwarts, and it won't be easy. This includes senior students, in fact I've asked Harry to be here too." Harry Potter nodded from where he had sat unnoticed.

"Madame Hooch, you will begin training the senior Quidditch players to fly at speed through forests and stay safe. It would also help to get them used to using spells while flying." Madame Hooch nodded, cat eyes bright.

"Madame Pomfrey, I'd like you to keep an eye out for students who have gifts for healing. We'll need them to have at least basic training by the time this war comes." Madame Pomfrey paled at her assignment's implications.

"Mr. Filch, I'd like you to do a number of jobs, and they're all very important. I need Harry to let you into the Chamber of Secrets-" Several teachers interrupted with gasps, and I plowed on.

"Yes, the Chamber of Secrets. Filch, I need you to clean it out, clean it up, and to make a place where at least a hundred students could spend a week or more with facilities and supplies. There is no better place to hide the juniors then the place only two humans alive can open, and it will keep the Death Eaters from wandering in.

"Filch, your second job is to organize the ghosts, the house elves and the mice into a tight security system all over the grounds. They will listen to you, and I have never know a student who didn't think you alone were everywhere at once." Filch nearly glowed with pride at my words, and well he should. With him running surveillance a sparrow could not land on the ground without him knowing.

"Madame Pince and several others to be decided later will stay with the children at all times in the Chamber, and protect them from any unforeseen dangers.

"Harry, the only thing I want you to worry about in the next few months is opening the Chamber for Caretaker Filch when he asks, and to organize the snakes on the grounds." No few foreheads in the room creased in confusion. Harry had an overall look of understanding, and was weighing the idea in his mind.

"A few hours a week go out and hunt for snakes. Call them to you if you can, and ask them politely to keep an eye out for suspicious things they may see, and most importantly, if they hear of any snake who speaks to a human other than you. We want the snakes as spies on our side, not Voldemort's." A general shudder circled the assembly.

"Next, Hagrid and Professor McGonagall. We will be combining your talents to protect the grounds around the forest edges and the open lawn. Hagrid, you will be collecting as many _interesting_ and willing creatures as you can handle, and Minerva you will be fitting them for battle by transfiguring objects into exact measures and uses."

"Professor Sprout, I need you to find, purchase and speed-grow as many large, life-like plants as you can that will protect the entire side wall against the cliffs from attack. Find a few students to help you."

"Headmaster, you will speak to the merfolk and the lake creatures and get their co-operation for the next task, ask for them to protect us from any water attacks, and boats the Death Eaters may try to use."

"Now, the big defensive strategy is this: Professor Snape, you're going to make enormous amounts of two potions. One a powerful stunning potions, and the other an antidote to give to every living things on the grounds. You will start on the antidote immediately, and it will be poured into the lake and the groundwater system. Every living thing will consume this antidote every single time they drink or eat, from the Headmaster to the fox living near Hagrid's cottage. When the time of the battle comes near, the stunning potion will be poured into the lake."

I took a deep breath and looked at the absolute attention I had of my listeners.

"The night of the battle, Flitwick and several students will create something like an acid rain that will pour over the grounds and stun anyone who hasn't consumed the antidote. I expect everyone to help in making sure anyone on our side does get at least a shot of the antidote. Carry it with you in flasks, or bottles and share it around. Spread the word once we get it all going. This will disable our foe for about fifteen to twenty minutes, unless you can manipulate it for longer, Severus.

"Alright, that's all for tonight as a rough beginning. Any questions?"


	5. Blood, Sweat and Strawberries

Needless to say, no one was in any condition to ask questions. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, tipped his bearded head back to stare at the ceiling, folded his hands on his stomach and slowly exhaled.

"You are all dismissed." He spoke to the roof, but we all understood his meaning. The staff and faculty filed out one by one until it was just me, gathering up my map and biting my lip. Did that go alright? I glanced back at Albus, but he had not moved. Following the path of the others out the door and into the hall, Severus called me from behind, where he leaned against the wood paneling. I turned back, and he reached out as if to touch my arm, but thought better of it.

"You did a good job tonight. I have faith in your plans and I trust your judgment. Give me the potion instructions and the first batch will be ready by the end of the week."

I was reassured by his praise, and felt maybe I still had my special touch for these military matters.

"I can show them to you now, if you would like." He nodded, the challenge before him glowed in his dark eyes. I led the way to the tower, and we climbed those long stairs around and around. It was only half way up I considered inviting another professor to my office, being next to my bedroom, was not the cleverest idea I had ever had. Oh well, I was sure everyone else had other matters on their minds after that meeting than gossip.

About the same time this thought occurred, a more girlish realization was that he currently had my behind in his main line of sight, and was most likely the object of his attention. The trap door couldn't come soon enough, because I was blushing with every swing of my hips. I could not stop them, it was a natural movement when climbing stairs. We arrived at the platform, and thankfully he did not feel the need to aid my ascent up the ladder.

My office was, to my further embarrassment, the disaster I'd left it in when I flew down with my head in my maps and plans. House elves had politely been asked to steer clear of that room for awhile, and the effect was more than noticeable. I left Severus in the cupboard-sized hall and shot cleaning spells around the room, removing everything I saw.

He entered and I found him the proper lists of potions ingredients and instructions.

"It looks fussy, but do-able. I'll start it tonight." Gathering the sheets, the man was out the door before I could even say thank you.

Start tonight? Surely he meant reading them over and gathering supplies. The first stage of the potion was six agonizing hours of hard, sweaty work and to start now would leave him working until dawn.

It was too hard to sleep. Simply could not sleep. I carefully slipped my work robes over my nightclothes, and soft leather slippers on my feet before entering the hall and going down the trap door. At night, distances felt immeasurable, some longer and some shorter than during the day, and tonight I glided down the stairs in what felt like a few moments.

The castle had many professors up and about tonight, all hiding from the others. As I crept past open doors, I heard Professor Vector saying her rosary, Professor Flitwick concentrating on a glass of water until tiny clouds formed and sprinkled down on him, Filch stroked Mrs. Norris, and gloried about his new job, and the most heartbreaking was Minerva sobbing into Albus. They sat in her office, the door slightly ajar, and he held her dearly while she cried. I left, feeling like I had stolen something from them.

Slowly, but clearly I found myself in the dungeons, the cold seeping through the leather on my feet and past the warmth of my robes and pajamas. His door too, was open and I watched him work his mastery. The room felt like a tropical island, humid and hot.

Sweat shone on his neck, his hair clinging and sticking, and the beginnings of a perspiration mark began on his white-shirted back. He didn't notice me, so I crept in, trying not to disturb him. On the table next to an enormous cauldron was a series of ingredients in various stages of preparation in scientific containers, and a lone tea mug in the corner with a charming English pattern. My instructions had been enlarged and were posted on the wall in front of him, a black bullet flashing on the step he was currently working.

He reached a hand up to wipe his forehead with a black handkerchief tied about his wrist, a sigh escaping. Something in me stirred, a terrifying emotion. This tableau was greatly attractive to me, a man impassioned by his work, healthy and brilliant. Watching a master of any discipline is a treat, and I enjoyed every movement he made, whether stirring, or pouring a liquid slowly into the waiting potion below, or enunciating a spell.

"Cup of tea, Professor Sinistra?" He kept his back to me. I should have known.

"Please, and you may call me Sophie when we are alone like this, you know."

"I call you Professor Sinistra _because_ we are alone like this, Professor Sinistra." The man had a valid point. There were very strict rules at Hogwarts about teacher-teacher relations, and it would not do to invite trouble out of carelessness. Though as I searched for the pot I wondered how closely Albus followed them after seeing his possible relationship with Minerva.

The pot was on a desk near the back of the work room, and a cup I summoned out of thin air. The tea was a rich berry blend, bitter and refreshing in the room's heat, and I rolled the taste around in my mouth.

"Your own making?" I gestured to the tea. He nodded.

"You will not find that in the grocery store. It still needs tweaking. How is it to you?" I let another taste of it linger on my tongue.

"A touch more of strawberry would be perfect for me, but to each his own." For the first time he turned away from his work, and wiped damp hands on his trousers. I gave him my cup as he made to take it, and he strode purposely to the store cabinet. A single pink drop fell into my cup from one of thousands of tiny bottles, and he swirled it in his hand.

"Do you mind if I try it?" I smiled affirmatively, long past being afraid of boy cooties. He lifted it to his lips and tried the barest sip of his addition. "Charming, but a little too sweet for my taste." I took another drink and the cup as returned to me, and I found he had put in just the right amount of strawberry to make it exactly as I would have wanted it. He stared at his feet, perspiration glistening on his temples.

"Perfect, it is lovely."

"Is this your first visit out of your chambers in the last week, besides the meeting tonight?"

"Yes, it is." Where was he going with this?

"You do know the house elves report to Albus, correct?"

"Yes, why?"

"Therefore you do know he is aware, and has chosen to pass onto me the information of how you have been treating yourself this last week?"

"Yes." I whispered it, afraid of what would come next. Feeling dizzy, I sunk down on a stool.

"Well, that strawberry flavoured sleeping draught I just poured in your tea will fix one of them." With horror, I did find myself being captured by my heavy mind, and fell to the stone floor, my head cradled in my arms.


	6. Ontario Strikes Back

When I awoke, it was to the now bitter-sweet taste of berries in my mouth, and the crunch of leaves under my body. Wait a minute. Leaves? I flung my eyes wide, and saw a sun-dappled canopy of deciduous trees that burned brightly in gold, red and brilliant oranges. The sun was positioned in the late afternoon sky, and the crisp scents all added to the chaos in my brain as I tried to comprehend how on earth I had found myself there, or where _there_ was. I stood, brushing my back off.

There was a note, in shimmering green ink, hovering at eye height before me.

_Dear Sophelia_

_ I felt you deserved a short vacation after all the stress you have had this week. It will also give the other professors time to adjust to this new Sinistra without you being there. Welcome to Algonquin Park, I know you will like it. Everything you need is in the backpack beside you._

I looked, and sure enough there was an innocent green bag that had not been there when I awoke.

_I will port key you back Sunday night, though I have no idea how long it will feel to you. I must admit I played with time a bit. . . let us hope you feel like you are there no longer than a week or two. . . _

_Albus_

"That sneaky little augh!" I cried to the isolated land around me, standing alone in my pajamas and robes from last night. I did not know exactly where I was, so I could not even apparate back to Hogsmeade. A short walk confirmed that this was a rocky island roughly the size of the Hogwart's Great Hall, beautiful evergreen trees mixed with those losing their leaves to the fresh autumn breezes. Around the island was a lake that was framed by countless other islands of varying size, all tree-encrusted.

I looked back to the headmaster's note.

"He played with time? Well, when I went to the dungeons it was late Friday night, or rather very early Saturday morning. That- that- augh!"

It was time to look at this backpack. It was absolutely covered in zippers of all kinds of shapes and colours. I pulled the big pink zipper for the main compartment and reached in. My fingers touched nylon, and I slowly worked a water-proof, muggle tent out. The instructions were simple, and so even with just one of me I was able to construct the roomy two person tent. Next from the sack came a large, squashy, purple sleeping bag and matching pillow, both of which were tossed into the tent.

The next item felt odd under my fingertips, cold metal and barky wood. It came out slowly, and as I put the odd construction on the ground in a bare spot of dirt. It unfolded itself into a iron-framed campfire complete with wood. The next half hour I contented myself with pulling out necessary and unnecessary but fun objects out of the endless bag. The map revealed that I was smack dab in the centre of Algonquin Park, as Albus had written, and that the park was smack dab in the middle of the Canadian Shield.

There was eventually nothing for me to do but enjoy my enforced vacation. I curled up on the west side of the island, wrapped in a heavy wool blanket, and watched the sun go down in a display of colours splashing and draining into the night when the stars appeared unhindered by city lights, even the lights of little Hogsmeade or the castle. They stretched forever up and around, reflecting onto the rippling water that crinkled at the rocky slopes.

Eventually I crawled into the tent, which smelled faintly of cinnamon, and into my sleeping bag. I had to laugh. The pattern of the fabric on the inside of the bag was still purple, but purple with a bowling ball and bowling pin print. Oh Albus. . .

The next day dawned clear and cool, and I could smell the morning in the air. It made me ravenous, and the bag provided a wonderful selection of food easy to prepare over the fire. It was a temporary bliss, that island. For nearly a week I read, sketched, serenaded some startled ducks, charted the night sky to as to not lose my touch, bravely went swimming in the still warm water and tried my hardest to forget about the war, my classes and my co-workers. Or co-worker. Then I became bored and lonely, the nightly fire a beacon of isolation.

A tiny snake slithered past my forgotten book one day, and I watched it as I finger-combed my long, dark hair, preparing to braid it up out of the way. Then there was a sound that shouted unnatural to the forest, a muttered curse, and some inelegant stomping of leaves, over behind me. I tried to look out of the corner of my eye, and saw a man in all black robes. He took in his surroundings, and upon noticing me, stood silent. I maneuvered my wand out of my inside jacket pocket, and pointed it at him, whispering _Petrificus Totalus_.

The man fell to the softly padded earth and I scrambled up and over to him, slipping once on the slick moss. I reached down and turned the rigid body face up. It was Snape. I dropped him back down in shock, and cried _Enervate!_ He let out a loud groan, and struggled upward, muttering something about not being young enough to be flung around a forest and spring back anymore. I reached down my hand, and tried to pull him up, but we both fell on our backs, side by side.

I was inclined to stay there awhile, and apparently so was he. The flaming trees above made soft noises as they caressed each other in the breeze, and the earth felt good under my body.

"Sophie," he started, dispensing with all formalities. "Where am I? I went to pick up a book from Dumbledore's floor and I ended up here." I had to laugh.

"Yes, he used it to force a vacation on me, I have been banished here for days. Welcome to Algonquin Park, Severus, my home away from home."

"Days? How did he manage that one. He told me to get you pliable enough to send somewhere, but he did not mention a time change."

"No idea, and I have been meaning to talk to you about your part in this."

"Oh?"

"Yes." And with my response I grasped the piles of leaves under my hands, rolled over, and smothered him with them to the delightful, indignant sounds he made under my hands. He barely tried to stop the revengeful abuse. When I was certain he understood me, I shoved them down the neck of his robes, stood up, and brushed myself off with a flourish worthy of dramatic Professor Snape.

"Next time Dumbledore cooks up some plan to force me to relax, maybe you should not agree too quickly to poison me."

He launched off the ground, face set in annoyance but gaze firmly held by his hands that busily scooped the leaf pieces out of his clothes.

"Listen, you came downstairs last night for the meeting looking like absolute hell. I left your rooms and asked Dumbledore what he was going to do about it, and he told me he already had plans, and if I would help. So I said yes, and I did what he said would help. And you look healthier, so I do not regret it."

I knew he was right. The jerk face was always right when it came to these arguments. The bags under my eyes had melted away, my headaches and stomach aches had disappeared and I felt physically better than I had in years. But still, he _had_ poisoned me.

"So when did Albus say he was coming to get us? Tonight?"

I laughed, thinking how I had been here a week in this time, but less than a full day in Hogwarts time.

"Let me show you around." I answered, and watched his expression fall to shock and dread with the realization he could be here for days. The island was not big enough for two strangers, two co-workers or two people who did not know how they felt about each other. It was certainly not big enough for Severus and I to stay out of each others way. This was going to be interesting. . .


	7. Breaking the Barrier

Indeed, things were interesting after that. To start, we had to adjust the camp for two and use Albus magic backpack again. A sleeping bag and pillow, extra clothes and food emerged, but we could not make it give us another tent. We even tried to conjure one, but neither of us knew enough about tents to create one that was useable.

This predicament compounded the problems of the island, forcing us to sleep in the same nylon prison, half a metre apart. We tried to be respected of each others privacy, but there was no where to go to get away, to be alone.

Severus, as it turned out, had never been anything near camping before, so once I convinced the unsanitary conditioned would not be the death of him, I think he began to appreciate the unspoiled beauty of outside. He adopted a more rugged style, not the professional pristine robes, and traded them in for warmer more practical clothes, though still black.

That evening we walked together around the island, both watching the geese and the haunting loons.

"I apologize for slipping sleep draught in your tea." He said spontaneously. I smiled and laughed.

"Apology accepted. I'm sorry for shoving leaves down your robes."

"Apology _not_ accepted." A deep chuckle came before he pushed me into a large, leafy bush. I cried out a curse or two at him, wishing I could reach my wand.

The results nights together were amusing. Things one would usually never see a co-worker do or have we had no choice but to observe. For example there was a small smattering of fuzz appeared on his chin in the morning. Or how he was fanatical about brushing his teeth and washing, despite the appearance he normally gave off of untidy and greasy.

At least twice a night he muttered in his sleep, like dark nightmares that terrified children. His were real. His were no works of imagination. When those happened, I curled up in my sleeping bag as far from him as I could, huddled against the tent wall. It only took him shouting at me once to teach me to never touch him in his sleep, after I had tried to wake him the first night. He was embarrassed, I am certain, that I had to see and hear such things.

The time around the ever burning fire grew longer each night, and as we spent more time in such an intimate confine, we became more silent and awkward. The secure distance of co-workers was gone after five days of co-habitation. I had to admit, my earlier suspicions that I cared for the man were more than confirmed. It all came down to the last evening we were there.

The fire that night was loud. Or maybe it just felt loud in my mind because we did not speak. There was an intensity in the air, a tension crackled between our bodies on opposite sides of the pit. It was driving me to distraction. He did not move, he did not speak, and I had no clue what he was thinking. Frustrated, but wanting to be sociable, I gathered my jacket to my chest against the night chill, and sat down beside him. Shadows hid his face, and he did not even turn towards me. Was he brooding?

I reached out my hand to touch his arm, and he moved away with a tremendous jolt.

"Do not- Please do not. I cannot- I cannot block you." The words tore out of his mouth, and he continued to gaze at the fire. I was feeling more than a little stung.

"Block me from what?" I tried to catch his eye, but he steadfastly kept away, and did not respond. I reached for his elbow, hoping he would not pull away, that he would allow me to comfort him from whatever ailed his troubled mind. He stood up and ran, ran into the dark woods towards the lake and I followed. He finally stopped at the shore, moonlight pouring down, silvering the world around us.

"What the hell is it? You have been acting so oddly, and it does not add up. And why will you not look at me? I always thought you were, but you never meet my eyes, and now you will not even face me. Am I so terrible?" I whispered the end, nightmares of answers fleeing my imagination.

I heard him breath deeply of the night air. It grew still, the waters quieting. Waiting expectantly, I bit my bottom lip, not wanting to move. He began, his smooth voice now crumpling and husky.

"You know- you know that I am a Legilimens, and a good one." Another pause.

Yes, I had heard it, but knew very little, my magical talents being completely elsewhere.

"I can enter a mind, and I can tell if someone is lying, and I can watch memories, and I can steal thoughts." He drew in a breath. "I- I- I cannot with you. I am afraid. And its becoming hard to _not_ enter your mind. You are so open, it would just be so easy to plunder your thoughts."

"But you have entered hundreds of other peoples heads, I am sure. Why am I any different? What about me makes my mind so frightening?"

"Because I would not be able to stop myself, to stop myself from prying into your deepest personal thoughts and feelings and memories. I think about you too much and too strongly, and it is eating away my control. If I look in your eyes, if we touch, I will not be able to keep out of your head, and if I do it once, I would never be able to stop."

I stood behind him and pondered these words. Did I want Severus Snape in my mind? Normally people were not given the choice to decide. I watched him shudder to himself in the night wind. If this happened every time he felt deeply, whether friendship, love or hate, about someone, no wonder he shunned relationships. I made up my mind.

I reached up, and placed a carefully steady hand on his shoulder, fingertips falling softly one by one to the black fabric. His body quivered beneath my touch, and I guided him to turn towards me. I raised my hand to just under his bare chin, which hung dejectedly down.

The skin felt dry and warm against my cold palm, and I lifted him until our eyes met fully for the first time in our entire knowledge of each other. He looked boyishly fearful, and then his black, glowing eyes locked mine in an intense, unseeing grip. I felt his rich presence in my head, I felt him feel around my innermost chambers of the mind, unlocking emotions undiscovered, relived moments long past and understood thoughts barely formed.

He drank me in until I could not bear the intensity of the mental connection anymore, and dropped to my hands and knees on the rocky terrain, gasping sweet, clean new air. He fell after me onto his back, breathless and overwhelmed.

"I am so sorry." He pleaded to the night. I had to reassure him, had to let him know I choose it and that I did not regret his invasion. I crawled to him, and felt every rock smooth under my hands. He tried to shy away, but I captured him first, and rested my head on his chest. I did not want to move, and I was so weary I had no idea of how to get back to camp. Just as I drifted off, though, Severus gathered his strength, and picked me up and carried us both back to the tent. There we slept.

The first lights of dawn touched the sky, and peeked curiously through my eyelids. I was awakened to the sensation of a mountain moving under me, or perhaps an earthquake. My opened eyes revealed fabric and a broad chest. His arm was around me, ending with a heavy hand settled on the curve of my hip, and the jacket I had worn to the fire last night. The man smelled musky, in good need of a wash. Denying the urge to snuggle deeper into his warm body, I separated myself from the bed clothes and he shivered, eyes flinging wide open.

We watched each other a moment, unsure of what to say, not meeting eyes. Innocent as our actions had been, without a single intimate or romantic touch, we still felt that we had violated the bounds co-workers, or even friends maintained. He had been in my mind, knew me like none other ever would.

"I am going to go make breakfast. You could use a swim in the lake." He nodded mutely, and I slipped out of the tent. I puttered with the last embers of the fire, and shifted pans until I found the right size, followed by ingredients. I heard him steal away into the woods, and a few minutes later there was a series of splashes and muttered curses about the early morning temperature.

When he returned, wet hair curling charmingly and a little blue in the lips, I pressed a mug of hot coffee into his hands. He drank a sip, a slow smile spreading over his features as he tasted what I had put in it. I raised my mocha cup to his, and we exchanged cheers.

"A little early, is it not?" He questioned, drinking again. I laughed softly.

"I think after last night we could both use a drink." He expression became series, and sober. He turned his head slightly to the other side, towards a large golden maple surrounded by young pines.

"What I said last night was true. You opened a door for me that I doubt I will ever be able to close, and I am already aching to enter your mind again." His knuckles were white around the clay mug.

"Why?"

"Because, I have never felt a mind like yours before, and because of the strength of my feelings for you." He got quiet.

"And what feelings are there?" I did not expect an answer, but he gave me one anyway.

"I want to protect you, and I want to be your closest friend, and I want to be more than friends, and I want to know you inside and out, and understand how you think, and I want to revel in that innocent, pure mind of yours." His back shook, he was upset by what he had said. I did not know how to respond. Here was Severus Snape, a man I greatly considered a friend and perhaps more, revealing his secrets to me, unburdening what weighed down on his shoulders.

I put down the cup. Taking a couple steps forward, I could smell the soap he had just used, and I wrapped my arms around his body, holding him from behind with my cheek pressed against his long muscles and my heart pounding.

"Will you please look at me, Severus?" He melted into my embrace, and circled within the loop to meet me. Our eyes connected like last night, but this time when he entered my mind it was easy, warm and comfortable now that the powerful path had already been forged. I clung to his body as I felt him again in my head, the unmistakable presence of Severus filling my consciousness.

He delved into my memories, and I saw myself a chubby and cheerful child, and then an awkward teen at a large desk, surrounded by figurines and maps. He tasted my emotions, and knew my joy of planning and plotting on those oversized parchments. The next in the set was another room, this one tense and unmistakably a war room. There was me, in my late teens, surrounded by old, craggy wizards hanging on my every word. I poked my wand at a map, and clusters of wizards in attack formation rose. He felt the joy I had felt, and the accomplishment at the time, but shame filled my here and now, and I struggled to push him out of that memory. He withdrew immediately, and put his arms around my sobbing form.

"I was so proud- so proud to be given the chance to develop the tactics and strategies for an attack they told me would take place on a remote city where a dark wizard was terrorizing the citizens. They told me to devise a way to get the innocents out of the city, and then to get their forces in to take control. And damn it, I believed them." My body tensed with anger, and he placed a calming hand on my upper back.

"I did just what they said, and I did it brilliantly. It was not until the battle was over that I learned they had used me to overrun a perfectly happy city of everyday people, and the only dark wizards were the ones I worked for. The city was built on an oil patch, and once they had the residents out, they tore apart the city and drained it dry. And I helped them, I was responsible for every death, every death."

I waited through anguished tears for him to push me away with revulsion, but the push never came. He pulled me closer.

"Go ahead and cry. You need to." He was right, and I gasped in air as salty tears trickled freely down my cheeks, into his shirt. I have no idea how long I cried, but he stood there holding me until there were none left. My senses returned in the quiet. His breathing lifted my body every so gently every time he inhaled. The constant breeze pulled the sounds of leaves and waves, and the crisp scents, and the cool, fresh breeze around us. It was a moment. Finally he spoke.

"Does Dumbledore know all of this?" I nodded.

"You are not the only one with a past, Severus." I tried to say it lightly, but his eyes turned thoughtful. "Albus found me at St Mungo's, friendless, disowned by my parents and with-"

"-this." He finished for me, shifting to touch two fingers to the nape of my neck where I knew there was a scar hiding under my hair. "I saw it the night I found you on the stairs to your room in the tower."

"After their plan succeeded, they did not want me around to tell tales. I was pretty well warded against magical attack, but I did not expect to be bashed on the back of the head with a hot fire iron. I- I do not remember what happened between after that, and before I woke up in the hospital. I do not want to know."

"You may not believe me, but you are past that now, I know you are. You are innocent, Sophie, somehow your mind is clean and peaceful to me despite the horrors in your memories. Someday, maybe I will be ready to tell you my past."

We fell silent, and I thought on what he said. Yes, I had been hurt, but I had moved on, had not I? That was one of the reasons I was dragging my talents out of banishment for Dumbledore, to set right the wrongs that they had unknowingly done before, right? A final tear fell, and I lifted my head, wiping it away.

"Thank you, Severus."

"Thank _you_, Sophie."

The problem with being wrapped and intertwined in a hug with a warm, mans body on a beautiful day, standing on a breathtaking island in the middle of Canada, after an emotional train ride leaving you sated and at a higher level of understanding is that you cannot properly end the moment without losing the intensity, but it is impossible to maintain. Holding him, him holding me, it was amazing, just like souls connecting, but we could not stay there all day.

His stomach answered the question by growling ferociously, reminding me that whatever I had set to cook on the fire was long ago charcoal. Like he was suddenly realizing he was ravenous, he stepped out of the embrace and wrapped a hand around mine, softly, feeling it like he had never touched a hand before. He guided me back to camp, guided me to a seat, and there I settled, missing his reassuring touch.

Breakfast, or brunch by this time almost made itself. He bolted his down, like it was being vanished with magic, but I had no appetite for food. I excused myself, smiling, and walked silently, deep in thought, to the other side of the island, where it opened to great wide expanses of water. It invited me, the rough waves and rocks creating hypnotic symphonies that soothed my overwhelmed heart with the peace of the Master. I removed my shoes and socks, and let water foam around my toes, cold and clean. It was not enough, I craved more.

Pulling off my clothes, and neatly piling them on a high, dry rocks where I could keep an eye on them, I gave in to the water. Gasping when I waded out far enough that the sensitive skin of my torso was immersed, I dove under. When I emerged again, I picked a tiny island out along the near distance and took off in the water, stroke after stroke forward until I was breathless and one with the water that glided around me. I gave no thought to myself, or Severus, or the war sitting on my desk at home. I achieved the moment of absolute relaxation that had been the reason Dumbledore had sent me.

The island came closer, I touched a dead tree as a mark, and as I swam back it receded again at a more leisurely pace This time, a moose with its shaggy head and massive body came near, and I followed him until he went off to another direction. The moment kept a smile on my face the whole way back, even as my limbs began to ache.

The rocks where I had left my clothes appeared, and I stayed up to my neck until I was certain Severus was on the other side of the island. He was. I pulled myself in, and let the water run off, wringing out my long hair. I found my wand hidden in my sweater, right where I left it, and performed a drying spell on my body. My hair I left, as drying hair with spells tends to make it look greasy. Dressing complete, and now much warmer, there was not anything left to do but go back to camp.

Severus was curled up asleep on a fireside blanket, care lines etched deeply into his forehead, and with all the symptoms of a bad dream. Feeling exhausted myself, I curled into his arms, and snuggled against him, whispering calming things in his ear as I kissed the hollow of his jaw, and drifted off to sleep.

"Mmmm. . . " Rumbled from the stubbly throat under my ear. My sleep-addled senses noticed pronounced differences between when I had fallen asleep after my swim, and when I woke up. This was not Algonquin, with its crisp autumn scents and cool rustling breezes. This was not Severus and I comforting each other after digging deeply into each others very minds. This was Dumbledore's office, and more specifically, Dumbledore's couch. And here at Hogwarts, Severus and I being asleep in each others arms, no matter how innocent, was forbidden.


	8. Joys of Parenthood

The sound of a tapping foot brought Severus and I to full attention, quickly pulling apart with awkward emotion evident and embarrassment hastening our movements to flee to either side of the couch. Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge stood before us with an expression of hardly concealed amusement, horror and outrage, respectively.

"What- what is the meaning of this!" Fudge sputtered, grabbing my arm in a bruising grip and yanking me towards him. Severus jumped up and snatched me away from him, pushing himself between us, Albus shortly following. I started sobbing, like an infant who had been torn from the safety of the womb to the harshness of the world, and I clung to Snape's back, hiding. He did not know, I realized. He alone in this room did not know, and he had not dug it out of my mind yet.

"Question us if you like, but you will not touch her." Albus whipped out his wand with a speed that cracked the air, and pointed it steadily at Fudge who was turning various shades of purple.

"You have sunk even lower than when I disowned your miserable existence, Sophelia Fudge. You thoughtlessly slaughter a village of taxpayers and upstanding folk, and then when you do find someone who ignores the blood on your hands, you sleep around with Death Eaters? That why they keep you here? Do they know your past, or was it merely considered an asset?" He spat on the floor at my feet.

I held Severus back from striking the man, tears coursing down my enflamed cheeks. Albus coolly waved Minerva to lower her wand, and he brought his attention back to the short man in the bowler hat.

"One more word and I will not be responsible for my actions, Cornelius. Please leave this school now." Fudge stalked towards the fire and hurtled floo powder before him.

"Mark my words, Albus, that woman is not worth the time it took you to put her back together." He left in a roar of green flame. The room was silent except my throaty sobs.

"If you want me to leave, Headmaster, I will. I never deserved your kindness, and I am certain he will be calling for Severus resignation too after what he thinks he saw just now on the couch, unless I go."

In a matter of minutes I had gone from relaxed, sleeping on an island in the arms of a dear friend, to near collapsing on the floor, weeping over my fathers cruel accusations and the assumed soon to be scorn of my surrogate parental figures. Fawkes cocked his head, curious.

"Do not be ridiculous." McGonagall snapped. "We know full well you earned your right to be here, and everyone on the staff has a past and secret, so do not go all self-sacrificing on us. We cannot do without someone to design our defences, or teach astronomy." She shoved a handkerchief in one hand and a conjured cup of tea in the other. I sat on a hard-backed chair in front of Dumbledore's desk and faced him.

"Sometimes I forget how much he hates me." I whispered. A warm hand came down on my shoulder, and squeeze reassuringly. Albus had moved to the business side of his desk, and looked firm.

"Now, let us clear up this couch mess. The time for you to arrive back was random, and I know I sent Sophie to the island, but I do not recall sending you, Severus. So if you could please explain your presence on the island, and on the couch in such a compromising position, I would certainly like to here it." Albus adjusted his glasses, an expectant look he shared with Minerva behind him.

"I came to speak with you last night, and while waiting I tried to pick up a book I thought had fallen on the floor. Imagine my surprise when I am suddenly trapped on an island with a co-worker for days."

"I opened my mind to him, Albus. We are friends of the deepest sort, now. He knows my darkest secrets, as of tonight, all of them.. We grew close on that island." I finished my words, and the desire to cry was gone. My heart felt lighter revealing the truth.

"You confirm this, Severus?" Minerva was flustered, a pink flush spreading over her cheeks. He nodded. "I doubt either of you are prepared for the effects of what you have done, but so be it."

"By school rule it is forbidden for teachers to have romantic attachments of any sort with each other. I trust you will abide by this?" We agreed, fairly certain we could, in fact, live with this command. "Then I will formally defend you against the charges Fudge may lay."

"Thank you, Albus. I am sure our innocence will be easily proven. There has been none of that sort of contact of which to speak." He was confident in this statement, but a memory flashed before me.

"Well, good." Albus was saying. "They have spells to prove these affairs, and with no evidence they will have no case."

"Spells?" I whispered. "Would a kiss be revealed?"

"Yes, see if I cast the spell on say, Severus, and improper contact would glow red." An orange glow surrounded his wand a moment before a mouth shaped patch behind Snape's jaw gave up its secret. Severus, seeing the light out of the corner of his eye gave me a funny look, and I turned my eyes with shame.

"Oh dear. . ." Minerva sighed, accompanied with several loud cracks of the fire. I stared at it, expecting to see my father pop out again, cursing me and accusing me.

"I think we should finish this conversation tomorrow." Albus declared.


	9. Sleeping Bag Sneaking

I went to my room for the first time in what felt like two weeks, and I went in silence. A quiet bath removed the grime lake water had left, and repaired the damage the sleep-rumpled, uncombed air-drying had done to my tangled hair. A warm robe wrapped around me, and my hair was brushed until the water ran off the bottoms, soaking the soft terry cloth. It felt good to be home, with the comforts of Hogwarts, but somehow I missed that unmistakable feel in the air of the island.

I dressed, and went to my office. The war papers were still there, along with the unmarked homework that had been blatantly neglected over the past week. It was about time I got started.

The clock struck 3 am. I looked up from the last paper, blinking, and unsure how so much time had passed unnoticed. Well, at least I was finished, and I would be able to hear the groans and moans tomorrow night when I announced that I had all their assignments ready to hand back. Well, except for Miss Granger, who would hound me about those three marks I took off her astrology chart. The stack was piled neatly on my desk, and I shut the office door behind me with a click. A cool draught from above made me shiver, and I discovered the trapdoor to the tower above was open.

Not remembering ever opening it, I climbed up and peeked my head around. No one. Wait. There was a shadow within a shadow on the west side. A man-shaped bundle shifted, and unraveled, then stood up, fresh black robes tumbling to his ankles.

"We have a lot to talk about, Professor Sinistra." Part of me was crushed at his usage of the former titles. Or maybe it was the way he avoided my eyes again. I pulled myself off of the ladder and moved over to where he stood.

"Well, _Professor Snape_, what was it you wanted to discuss this late in a place this cold?"

"I have been waiting here for a few hours, thinking, waiting for you to finish whatever had you so preoccupied in your office that you did not hear me come up the stairs, or knock."

"Oh. Okay, so?" I crossed my arms, chafing them to warm up in the cold, late October night.

"Sophelia Fudge?" I bit my lip, thinking.

"It would be faster if you got it from the source rather than me trying to tell you." I put out my hand at his chest level, not touching him, just leaving it there for him to decide. He stepped back, running into the stone parapet.

"Do not tempt me, Sophie. We cannot. I cannot. You know that. We may already be in trouble."

"Severus, they cannot detect you in my mind, and none of our physical contact showed up as improper." Except the kiss, I added mentally. A considering expression filled his solid, black eyes, and his decision was clear when he accepted the proffered hand, weaving his fingers between mine.

His mind filled mine, but this time it was so gentle I could savour the exact feeling of him entering, caressing my consciousness. I concentrated on what he was looking for, and the memory played out before me.

_The hospital ceiling greeting me, white washed and low. I felt a pounding in the back of my skull, an agonizing ache, and the same ache filled my whole body. Memories of suddenly being struck with something from behind was the last I knew, but the overwhelming feeling that I had been violated as well was confirmed when I shifted on the sterile bed, and discovered the bruising extended to my inner thighs and internally._

_I wanted my mother, I wanted to sob on a warm shoulder, and I wanted it all to go away. Like they appeared with magic, my parents entered the room, the door bouncing off of the wall with the force my father had opened it._

_"Dad." I croaked with an ill voice, strangled by grief and self-loathing. His face was a thunder cloud, and my mother looked like she was dying of embarrassment. _

_"Do not you Dad me, you monster. Your action are unforgivable, Sophelia, and I strip you of the right to the honourable name of Fudge. You are no daughter of mine."_

_ He left in the manner he had stormed in, not another word spoken. My mother stood a moment, shaking her head disbelievingly at me. She dumped the armload of things she carried on the floor, and closed the door behind her as she walked out of my life. My disownment was over before it was started, a mere second or two of time that changed my life._

_I cried myself to sleep, but this time when I awoke, there was a friendly presence in the room. Of course I remembered the Headmaster from my days in Ravenclaw, but what he was doing here was a mystery._

_"I cannot fill the void your family has left, Sophie, but I will always be here, and I can bring you into a family of people like yourself with pasts and futures that are cloudy."_

_"Sir?" I was confused. What was he asking or telling me?_

_"Teach, Sophie, teach. You have a gift that is transferable to the art of astrology, and you know it."_

_"But Sir, I am only a few years out of school myself."_

_"And you are not the only one we have had on staff, not will we have on staff. I want to help you put your life back together. Think about it."_

_He left me with those words, and dropped a few more things on the pile still on the floor from my mother. I leaned over the bed, upsetting sore muscles, and examined what exactly was down there. A set of robes, some personal care items, an envelope, a set of keys, a book of astrology and my personal effects like birth certificate. The identification glowed strangely, though, and tears came to my eyes as I watched the words on it melt away and leave flashing blanks._

_Sophelia Fudge no longer existed. They had even disowned me legally and magically. Where my parent's names had been large letters spelled out the word DISOWNED. I did not even have a last name._

_Fury filled my battered mind, rage at myself for letting myself be fooled by the dark wizards, rage at my parents for being unforgiving, and rage at the world for leaving me in pieces._

We came back to the present, Severus and I, and I finished the story.

"It took months before I was ready to accept life again. Albus did almost too good a job at restoring my emotional health, now it is like I have always just finished a session of yoga or something." He squeezed my hand in his a moment.

"So where did _Sinistra_ come from?" He asked softly. I laughed a little.

"I picked it out of the astrology book Albus had left. All the meanings seemed to fit, and I knew someday I would be called to fight the Death Eaters, to be a serpent handler. Here I am. It is late, you should go to bed before you get even surlier than usual."

"I believe it is mutual." He lifted a finger and poked at a pronounced bag under my eye. He started to head back towards the trapdoor down.

"At least tonight we do not have to sleep in purple sleeping bags with tartan cats all over the inside."

"What are you talking about, Severus, mine had bowling balls and bowling pins, not cats." He stopped and faced me. A thought struck us both.

"You know, I think I would rather _not_ think about the implications of this discovery."

We exchanged goodnights and he left. I stayed on the tower just long enough to realize I was exhausted, and went to bed in a very different place then when I had woken up.


	10. The Trial

The day was one of those cold, rainy, grey and miserable late October ones and the late night astronomy classes were cancelled, leaving me precisely where I wanted to be, wrapped in a blanket on the floor in front of a roaring fire with a good book. The book could not keep my attention, though.

I put my head on my knees and sighed. It had been three days since I had been downstairs past my theory classroom at the base of the tower. Three days since I had seen anyone except the students. Assuming there was nothing I needed to know, nothing about legal actions from the ministry over the Couch Issue, and nothing personal from Dumbledore I had received no news and no visitors. This kind of hurt, and for once since I began teaching here I felt a little neglected.

"Face it, Sophie, you have been shoved out of your shell and now you don't want to go back in." I said aloud to myself. A groan followed as I dragged myself up, unraveled and pulled robes over my pajamas, and threw open the trap door to downstairs.

The Teacher's Lounge was a large, brightly lit room full of comfortable places to read, work or have a conversation, and tonight most of the professors were there, curled up as I had been, with a book. Professors Vector and McGonagall sat in a corner with cups of tea, and waved me over. I joined them gratefully, wanting human interaction.

"Happy to see you out of your tower tonight, Sophie." Vector smiled in broad, genuine smile. Her ginger hair glowed in the candle light, giving her a haloed glow. Minerva conjured a cup of tea in a matching pattern to her own delicate thistle design and pressed in into my hand.

"We were just saying if you did not show up tonight we were going to go pry you out of there. You came very close." Minerva sniffed at me in a way that could have been mistaken for strictness, but really was the mark of her sense of humour. She motioned to a bowl of fruit on the side table, and I started sectioning a banana into its natural thirds.

An hour later, when they both announced it to be their bedtimes, I was quite satisfied and feeling like I had accomplished something important. Perhaps I did have some friends here.

I exchanged a few greetings with Professors Flickwick and Binns, who floated by the fire, near the chair in which he had died, and wandered out of the lounge. The school was quiet, it was long past the student's curfew, and I felt free to wander about. I peeked into the Great Hall, wondering at how cavernous it appeared when it was devoid of students. 

A grunt caught my ears near a lake-side door, after I had completed a lap of the ground floor. Moments later an enormous cauldron poked through the entryway, carried by a tall, dark man who had a sinister but pleased smirk on his sweating face. 

"The first batch is in, let the poisoning start." He set the cauldron down on the floor, a tile cracking under the weight.

To two of us struggled the container to the lake shore, grunting with effort and cheerfully complaining at each other.

"You know, Snape, it is not so much poison as it is antidote." I prodded.

"I know, I know, but there's just some sort of evil glee about believing that I am going to poison the entire school, after threatening so many times!" The sinister grin grew wider, and he shifted the weight in his hands.

When we reached the edge, a pair of glistening mermen nodded gravely, and gestured for Snape to pour the potion into the waters. He complied, and I stayed back as the bubbling liquid spilled over into the moonlight ripples. The cauldron emptied quickly, and as the last drop fell, every single fish and creature in the lake, squid included, flew to the top! the swam to where the antidote had been deposited, and then with great splashing motions, dragged it back with them to the other side. Within moment, in a flurry of noise and flying spray, the potion had been diffused across the waters, and Snape and I were left with our jaws dropped to our chests in surprise.

"Did you know that was going to happen?" I asked, with awe in my voice. He shook his head.

"Dumbledore, probably.

"Right.

A few more moments passed, and we watched the waters settle again, creatures disappearing back under the surface before. An owl hooted, and I came out of my shock long enough to realize my surroundings. Our surroundings.

It was late, the air was chilly, a cold wind teased my hair. The moon gilded the world silver, the last leaves blowing off of the trees, swirling around us before haunting the lake's rippled glass top. The two of us stood alone, in this romantic setting, unseen by the world, aware of each other. I am certain he felt the same.

"When did you kiss me, Professor, and why, and why there?" His voice was soft but urgent. I grew very embarrassed.

"I did not even think about it, it just seemed at the time like the right thing to do. It was right before I fell asleep, right before we got transported back. It was a thoughtless kiss, justÉ it just felt right.

He was silent, but after a few moments of listening to the wind on the water, he slowly reached his fingers up and brushed where the red glow had highlighted.

"The trial is tomorrow night. If they find us guilty of inappropriate interactions, we could both lose our ability to teach ever again." He seemed calm in the face of this threat, but I knew it would break his heart to not be able to teach the little whelps he always gave the image of despising.

"I know." It was the only thing I could whisper out, the only words that would form. I wanted to spout apologies, wanted to do anything that would remove my responsibility from the action, but I just couldn't bring myself around to regret it.

We walked back to our rooms in silence, the axe hanging high over our heads.

The next day passed deceptively smoothly. Madame Hooch had agreed to take my night classes, and spend it giving lessons on night flying through wooded areas. The day time periods were simple giving out work and answering questions, because I had no emotion to spare in teaching a proper lesson. The kids recognized this with that instinctive ability they have to sense a teacher's distress, and behaved themselves quietly and calmly.

We went through the Ministry of Magic security in the normal fashion that evening, and I came out with a button matching Snape's that said ON TRIAL FOR TEACHING VIOLATIONS in large, bold script. Dumbledore could not preside over this case since he was so emotionally involved, so he chose instead to represent us. Severus coldly said nothing the entire time, and I grew anxious that he become regretful over our friendship, since any warmth towards me had vanished literally over night.

Our footsteps fell in a cacophonic clatter on the hard tiled floors of the ministry, mine, Severus', Dumbledore's and Minerva's. We found the room, and there was a small crowd, some in official robes, others who were further back. Minerva found a seat, and the other three of us went up to the front table facing the presiding witch, who had spectacles perched on the end of her pale nose.

"I charge these two teachers of Hogwarts school with violating proper boundaries of teacher-teacher relationships, by engaging in physical contact of an intimate nature." My father's voice rang out hard against me, his hate biting off every word. I turned red, for no one could be anything but embarrassed to have such charges read in public. Snape and Dumbledore seemed unphased.

Fudge gave a lurid account of discovering the so-called lovers on the couch together, any detail that could be exploited given an illicit description. Several gasps were heard from a group of witches and wizards I would normally call prudish, to be gentle. 

"É and before we call any other witnesses, I demand that the Touch Revealing Spell be used on both of them!" Fudge, my very own father, finished his searing accusation by pointing at us. Dumbledore's grin grew a little feral, a surprisingly sinister little light in his twinkling eyes.

"Does the defense for the defendants agree to the performing of this spell?" The pallid little witch asked sternly.

"Of course, Your Honour." He responded cordially.

"I want to perform it myself!" Snarled my father, whipping his wand off of the desk unceremoniously, and aiming it at me. "Let's see what a little slut she has been!

The witch nodded, and an orange glow surrounded his birch wood, unicorn hair cored wand a moment before hitting me. I felt glow, but to me nothing appeared to be highlighted in red.

"Please come to the centre of the room, and slowly turn around." The witch requested, her eyes already inspecting my body. I moved, and upon seeing Minerva's satisfied smirk, that nothing was in fact there. It was so unnerving to have an audience, and I saw a few people blatantly point at me. "Minister Fudge, I see no marks upon this woman that display any inappropriate behaviour, and I would remind you that lying in court is a punishable offense, and that you would be recorded officially as committing perjury.

"Him!" He choked out. "Test him! The Death Eater!" The crowd was already talking amongst themselves, discussing it was possible that I had somehow cheated, but hushed when he pronounced those two fatal words.

"I object to the minister's accusation of one of my teachers being a Death Eater. He was cleared decades ago of those charges.

"Sustained." The judge said forcefully.

The glow left me, and I felt a little tired as I returned to my seat, passing Snape who chose to go to the empty floor before he was asked. I couldn't meet his eyes. This time the judge performed the simple spell, and as before, the red spot under his jaw gave itself away.

"Severus Snape, please explain that spot on your body." He paused, apparently choosing his words carefully. I stood back up, and spoke, my voice near-breaking.

"Your Honour, I should be the one to explain that." She nodded, and my father's face became a little less ashen, his hope of condemning me rising again. "As Headmaster Dumbledore explained to you, we had accidentally been trapped on an island in Northern North America, and it had grown quite cold. We came to rely on each other as friends, but never anything more. Professor Snape was asleep, and I went to sleep next to him for warmth. He had frequent nightmares, and I had grown used to comforting him in his sleep, and I suppose it _could_ be considered inappropriate, but that kiss was meant to calm, meant to sooth. He had no idea I had done it, it was just part of comforting him, and I apologize if it was considered wrong. There was no intention to overstep our professional friendship.

I sat down, my hands shaking, not entirely certain I had told the complete truth, but hoping it was close enough.

The witch considered this a moment, looking from me to Snape, who stood like a statue on the cold, hard floor. The glow under his jaw winked out as she cancelled the spell.

"Witches and Wizards, you have time now to consider your verdict. Remember, justice is only guilty if it is proved to be guilty beyond a reason of a doubt." She banged the tall, heavy desk, and conversation flew around them. Snape came and sat down on the other side of Dumbledore, and Albus put a reassuring hand on their shoulders.

Fudge seemed to be having fits, though, from the moment the judge had cancelled the spell. Nearly foaming at the mouth, he crossed the room in rage, stuttering and sparks flying from the end of his raised wand. He lifted it higher, pointing at me, and I half ducked before Albus yelled a freezing charm that stopped the Minister of Magic in his dangerous tracks.

My father apparently still had use of his powers of speech, because once he could not move he launched a verbal attack, cursing me, wishing my mother had died in childbirth with me rather than have an offspring like me, wishing me every kind of death that could be considered painful of excessive.

The judge did not let him carry on long, though. She put her own silenced spell on him, which got his attention.

"I am absolutely shocked, Minister, that you would bring these charges on an official level against your own daughter, with only your witness against them, commit perjury, for we all saw no such revelations of illicit behaviour as you described, and then proceed to disrupt my courtroom with such behaviour!

Every eye in the room was on her, her spectacles never moving despite the fact she was shaking her head so vehemently.

"I dismiss this case, it is unfounded, and a disgrace to this court.

A huge, wobbly grin crossed my face before fading again. My own father filled with so much hatred for me. Dumbledore squeezed my hand from where he stood, and clapped Severus on the back.

"Let's find Minerva and go home.

For the first time, when we stood up in the bustle and chatter, my eyes met Severus', and they were so filled with warmth and tenderness, I knew that his behaviour before had been a front to protect us.

"Come along, Professor Sinistra, we have work to do, children to poison and far more marking to make up on than I care to think about.


	11. Halloween

Author's Note: I can use apostrophe's! Huzzah! That and I finally sat down and did the math for Prof Sinistra in my own little ff world. In this story, she's 7 years younger then Snape, so here's her short little timeline (and you can find the dates I used on the Harry Potter Lexicon Timeline):

1967 born as Sophelia Fudge.

1978, starts Hogwarts in the same year as Charlie Weasley, the year after Snape had graduated.

1981 Snape becomes the Potion's Master, however neither of them remember being each other's teacher or student.

1981 downfall of Lord Voldemort.

1985 Sinistra graduates Hogwarts and starts a two year apprenticeship with a master.

1987 Sinistra finishes her apprenticeship, and is tricked into helping some old Grindelwald supporters into attacking an innocent village.

1987 Sinistra is disowned by her parents, and is taken in by Dumbledore as Astronomy Professor.

1998, September, "Serpent Handler" begins.

I sat bolt upright that night, sweat still glazing skin, head bursting, and I gasped into the lonely night. Nightmares again had griped me, horrific images lingering as I straightened the sheets, trying desperately to put the linens in neat order. I got out of the tidied bed, went to the window, and opened it. Cold air blew in, it was, after all, two days until November. The sweat cooled and I shivered as it dried, touching the scar on the back of my neck.

The dreams came every year around Halloween, the anniversary of my foolish mistake. The last few days had been long and weary, with these nearly sleepless nights of dreams, and I knew they would last for nights more.

Leaving the window open, I crawled back into bed, the breeze stirring up my hair in icy tangles.

The Halloween feast was superb as usual, however, I only heard that from other professors a few days later. I spent Halloween evening on the roof of my tower, perched on the parapet, staring at the stars who gave me my current profession. No detailed chart or graph could steal their mystery, their ancient meaning.

"My old friends." I whispered, pulling my cloak closer.

"Will you accept newer friends tonight as well?" A voice asked lightly from the trap door. I turned, and Severus had his head peeking over the edge.

"Certainly, pull up a wall." I made room for him beside me, but was unsure if I was going to be much good for company tonight. He settled down, arranging his robes about him comfortably. He leaned over and met my eyes with a serious expression.

"You're doing it again." He said without preamble. I was surprised and a little confused.

"Doing what?" I asked cautiously. He checked them off with his fingers.

"You're not being with people outside of your classes. You're behind on your marking, the students are complaining. You're not eating properly, for example I stepped on two untouched trays when I flooed to your fireplace. And look at you, you've barely slept." He left his finger-count and grasped my chin firmly, and tilted my face gently into the light of a torch to check my eyes. "You're a mess, Sophie, so talk.

I pulled my face out of his fingers and looked away, into the dark of the Hogwarts grounds. He let me sit a moment in silence before clearing his throat calmly.

"It's been eleven years tonight when a village of civilians were slaughtered by a group of old delusional Grindelwald supporters with my foolish help." I paused, he nodded, waiting for me to continue. "Every year since, I get nightmares around Halloween, and the betrayal, the shame, hurts all over again." I absently rubbed my scar. The headaches were back, even during the day now. "It'll pass.

He frowned, clearly not impressed.

"Hogwarts cannot have a teacher like this in the middle of the term, especially in such a war-crucial year. But on a more personal, and more important note, why didn't you tell me? I thought you trusted me with this sort of thing? I would have gladly been here to do anything I can to help." I was ashamed again, and already felt guilty from the impact my situation was having on the students.

"I'm sorry Severus, I do trust you, but I don't want to be an extra burden on you, or Albus, or Poppy." There was an awkward moment where I thought he was going to hug me, but instead he leaned back against the stone and wrinkled his forehead thoughtfully.

"I'll be right back. May I use your fireplace to floo to the dungeons?

ÔAlright, go ahead." He left without a flourish, disappearing down the trap door where he had appeared less than fifteen minutes before.

I looked back at the stars and the luminescent moon, curious at Severus' behaviour.

He returned twenty minutes later, a large cauldron in his arms, struggling to push it up the ladder. I heard a loud clatter, and the cauldron dropped from my sight. There was a curse or two, followed by:

"Sophie, maybe you should come down. I'll meet you in your room.

I gathered my robes and cloak, and stepped carefully down the ladder, my eyes adjusting to the light. In my room, Severus had placed the cauldron on a table I usually used for eating, and was unloading many smallish things out of it.

"Sorry I took so long, I found a couple of those damned Gryffindor lurking in the dungeons, undoubtedly trying to cause some trouble." He grumbled, his back to me.

"Hey, Gryffindor really aren't all as bad as you think, you know, Severus. I even dated one back in Hogwarts for a very short time." I let out a small chuckle. "Completely unsuited, the two of us were.

"Really? Who was it?" He asked absently.

"Charlie Weasley. He was in my year, though we had completely different classes. Met in Hogsmeade in sixth year; he helped me get a book down off of a tall shelf.

Severus had frozen at the name, though.

"You dated a Weasley?" His voiced sounded a little pained.

"For a few weeks, yes. Great kisser, but we didn't have much in common. Our parents-" The word came out more bitterly than I had intended. "They thought us dating was a fabulous idea,, but we knew it wouldn't work.

"You kissed a Weasley?" The same pained voice. I laughed softly.

"Only boy I've ever kissed, and yes he was a Weasley. Red hair and rebellious disregard for rules and all.

"Hm." Was all he answered, in more of a growl than speech. He placed the last item on the table, and waved me closer to get a good look.

"Now." He picked up a small labeled bottle. There was a handful of identical others, all filled with a smooth, gray liquid. "This is a dreamless sleep potion. It's pretty powerful, so drink it once you're comfortable in bed, or else you'll fall down asleep where ever you take it. There's enough for four nights, which is about how long it's safe to take it without worry of consequences.

"Take in bed, got it. Did you get these from Poppy?" He moved them to the other side of the table beside a couple of abandoned meal trays.

"No, private stock. Next, this is a bottle of quite excellent wine. However, it's charmed so that the owner -you- can only have a glass when one is poured for another drinker, thereby forcing you to be sociable if you want the wine. Which you will, because I believe it's Minerva's favourite." He pushed that to the other side also. I licked my lips. Minerva's vintage taste was legendary around the faculty.

"Did she give you that?

"She charmed it herself, and hinted that she and Professor Sprout would be prime candidates in the capacity of people with whom to share. Next is what I was planning on giving you as a Christmas gift, but I suppose now would be a better time for such a thing." He moved a number of decanters, all different sizes, but all a lovely lavender tinted glass.

"If you tell anyone I made these, I'll deny it, but it's a personalized line ofÉ ladies stuff. Stuff for washing your hair, your body, your face, some bubble bath, and I think there was some lotion too. Remember, " he put extra emphasis on the word. "You didn't get it from me. If anyone knew I had made beauty products down there in my dungeons, I'd never hear the end of it." He scowled in a familiar way, and I smiled warmly.

"Never fear, your secret is safe with me. Though, I am curious how they're Ôpersonalized'. Do you mean the scents and things?" I unstoppered one and sniffed it.

"Not quite. I found a few of your hairs on my robes after our visit to the island last month, which gave me the idea. I found instructions for just such a thing in a book in the library, and placed the hairs in the potion as instructed. Wasn't very difficult. Just kept going from there." The little bottles travelled over to the other side with the potions and the wine. He picked up a magazine. "Here's the latest _Astronomy Monthly_, in case you don't already have it. Do you?

Nope, never bothered to keep up a subscription the last year or so. Pity, because it's such a good read. Where'd did you get this?" I flipped through it, pausing for a second at a lovely colour, moving photograph of a comet with a sparkling tail.

"Don't ask." Severus looked a little embarrassed.

"Severus." I said, in the same fashion a mother would when she knew her son had misbehaved.

"I stole it from a St. Mungo's waiting room yesterday." He confessed, and a dark smile tugged at his lips.

"Why were you at St. Mungo's?" I asked, concerned. How much had I missed, cloistered in my room the last week?

"No problems with me," he assured. "Just had to drop off some potions, and saw it there on a table.

I put the magazine down, promising myself that when I caught up on my shamefully large pile of marking, I would have a long, hot bath, and read the astronomy magazine. There was still more on the right side of the table. He opened a small waxed carton, and showed me the contents. Delicious smelled sweets from the kitchens, wrapped in a jack-o'-lantern patterned napkin.

"I think the house elves just wanted to gently remind you of their talents." He closed the container. "And lastly, I have a thick stack of reports from the preliminary defense measures, and where everyone is in their tasks." He was right, the bundle of papers was thick, and each was different. I picked the top one up. It was written in very dark green ink, on a single sheet of crisp white paper, and was by far the shortest report. I read it aloud.

"I, Severus Snape, do report that I have successfully poisoned the entire student body, staff and faculty with the antidote to the stunning potion, a total of three times, as requested, and will continue to do so once a month, on schedule, until the allotted time.

"Just thought short and concise would be better appreciated than some wordy description.

"What about this three times business. A little ahead of ourselves, our we?

I looked inspected his face closer than I had before. He looked tired, even though he wore a little smile.

"I got November out of the way this morning, one day won't make much difference.

"You sound too eager." I felt the expression on my face soften, and grow more serious. " Severus, I don't know what to say about all this, except thank you.

"Thank you is more than enough, if it all helps bring you back into the land of the living." He smiled again, and I decided I was going to hug him. We hadn't touched since the evening we came back from the island, and the awkwardness was overwhelming, especially after the trial and accusations of impropriety.

I moved towards him, and tried to keep my demeanor casual as I wrapped my arms around him, and rested my head lightly on his chest.

"Again, thanks you, Severus, it was so sweet of you to put all of this together at a moment's notice." He stood still a moment, as if deciding, and then I felt warm, strong arms pull me close against him. The light atmosphere of joking about Gryffindor boyfriends and smuggled sweets, vanished. I suddenly grew afraid of my nightmares, and how real they would feel again once he let me go, once he left my tower. My hands closed convulsively on his robes.

"What's wrong?" He backed away enough so that he could see my face. Our eyes met, and he moved one hand up my back, to my neck, where he gently touched my scar. I felt him again, softly entering my mind as he had on the island, with that signature aura of Severus about it. I saw my nightmares pass before my eyes, knowing he was seeing them, and when they had finished, he broke our eye contact.

"You don't want me to go." He whispered in my ear.

"I don't want to brood here anymore, wondering when the horrors will return. I feel safer with you here, Severus." I whispered back. He held me a moment longer, and then I pulled away and sighed heavily.

"Well," he started in a less intimate manner, and was clearly thinking. "I have marking to do, and you have, I'm guessing, an office full. Can we squeeze two into your office?" I thought a moment too.

"I think so. Bring your own chair, though, because Filch stole the only other remotely comfortable one.

The two of us flooed to his office from my chamber, and returned moments later, me with his chair, him with the large cauldron he'd brought up earlier now filled with little labelled bottles. We went into my office, and I shifted papers to give him room, and we shared opposite sides of the desk, making occasional comments. It was a pleasant evening, and when the clock stuck one in the morning, we said goodnight with a quick hug, and he left.

I got ready for bed quickly, already feeling lonely. But after taking the dreamless sleep potion, I wasn't even awake long enough to hear to bottle break as it hit the stone floor.


	12. The Burning Question

Two weeks later the nightmares had stopped, and life was back to somewhat normal, however the November blahs had set in. Outside it was dark, grey and cold even during the day, with no sun or snow to relieve the dull skies. The children were quieter, as if the war had sunk in a little more, like a heavy load on the heart. It was affecting everyone's work some.

"Hermione, I'm surprised at you." I said softly as I took a mark off of her star chart. By the looks of it she had copied from Ron Weasley, of all people. Her paper completed the stack of finished marking, and I sat back in my chair looking at them. Done for tonight. So what to do now? I had already read my stolen _Astronomy Monthly_ in the bath last weekend, Snape had told me he would be gone for the evening, so I couldn't go bother him, and it was too cold to go stargaze, so I was at loose ends.

I let my eyes search around the room some more. Nothing in my office to do. I pulled my robes closer, and walked across the tiny hallway to my chambers. Once there, I spelled the fire bigger, and the burst of flame reflected on a piece of glass on the shelf. Inspecting further, my eyes brightened. It was the enchanted bottle of wine from Minerva. Well, I had discovered my evening plans. I found my floo powder, and threw a handful in the fire.

"McGonagall's office!" I shouted. My head felt like it was spinning out of control, and I tightened my grip on the wine bottle. A warm, cozy room settled into sight.

"Minerva, are you there?" I called, a little shyly. Tartan-slippered feet appeared.

"Come on in, girl, no need to kneel there so uncomfortably." Her Scottish accented words invited with the same warm feel as her room.

"I brought a surprise, as I believe I was hinted to bring when it was given." She took the bottle as I dusted myself off thoroughly. A broad smile crossed her face. We both had our evening plans now.

She explained a little while later that when I arrived she had just returned from an Order of the Phoenix meeting. The bottle was now less than half empty, much less than half, and there was a great deal of laughter between the two of us.

"Éand then the banshee whispered Ôyou could have fooled me!'" I finished the joke, already cracking myself up. We took a minute to hold our straining sides, and pour fresh glasses of delectable red wine, slopping a little over the edge.

"You'll never guess what happened at the meeting tonight!" Minerva exclaimed breathlessly, slapping her leg, and bursting into fresh giggles.

"What?" I grinned, ready for another funny story.

"Severus Snape and Charlie Weasley got into a _fist fight _tonight! It was so funny, Severus just flew at him." She kept laughing, but I stopped suddenly.

"Pardon?

"Yeah, it was SO weird." She tried to calm herself down a little and failed. "Albus mentioned Fudge at the meeting, and less than a minute later Severus had punched Charlie Weasley right in the face. They'd been bickering all night, but something just made him snap. And I don't know if you know Charlie Weasley, but he's a pretty tough guy after working with all those dagrons- I mean dragonsÉ" She took a long gulp of wine, but I put mine back on the red-clothed table.

"Are they alright?" Sobriety was hitting me up hard. "Were they hurt?

"Oh they're fine, Ablus- Albus sent them straight to Poppy. Hilarious, eh?

"Yeah, yeah hilarious." I agreed without meaning it. "Minerva, I have to go, how about you finish this up with someone else. Thanks again for the wine!

I was out of the door before the last word was spoken.

It took a few minutes to run to the dungeons from Minerva's chambers; down staircases, through twisted hallways. The deeper down I went, the colder it got, but in my slightly inebriated state, I barely felt it. I went past Snape's door twice before I knocked on it firmly.

"Severus, get the hell out here!" I yelled at the grim tapestry that marked his doorway. He emerged reluctantly, hiding in the shadows of his hallway.

"I'm not in the mood to chat tonight, Sophie, sorry." He made to close the passage, but I pushed my way through and entered the room. He still lingered in the shadows by the door. I rolled my eyes, muttered _lumos_, and held my wand to his face.

It was swollen and purple around the left eye, and the rest looked a little battered as well.

"Couldn't Poppy heal this up?" He pulled his head away in the same fashion that I had two weeks ago when he had confronted me about my problems. Strolling irritably over to a side table, he poured himself a small amount of golden liquid, and then held the decanter up in a gesture of invitation. I shook my head no, and he put the stopper back in. He took a long sip, and leaned back against the side table.

"Madame Pomfrey healed the inside, but it'll take another few hours for the bruises to fade." He sipped again. I sat down, knowing he didn't want me there at all right now.

"Well, do you plan on explaining yourself?" I asked, when it was clear he wasn't going to speak unless questioned. Another long sip.

"We got in a fight.

"Well obviously, Severus, but why?" In a rushed moment, he placed the now empty glass down with a loud click on the side table, and in a few long strides he had crossed the room and sat down across from me, leaning close.

"It was ridiculous, but you've got to understand what I was thinking at the time." His eyes had a shamed, pleading expression in their bruised frames. I nodded slowly, and he continued, reluctance vanished.

"The last few days, all I have been able to think about has been you and Charlie Weasley. Images creeping into my mind against my will. And there he was at the meeting, sitting calmly, unknowing how much I was growing to hate him. Dumbledore mentioned Cornelius Fudge, and I probed Charlie's mind to see his reaction to the name Fudge." He inhaled deeply and a bitter twist turned his lips a moment.

"He immediately thought of you and him together in your sixth year. You were under a tree by the lake, knee deep in snow at twilight-" He seemed to be struggling over the next couple words, and looked distinctly unfocused, as if seeing something that wasn't there. "Kissing like you were drowning, like it was all that mattered. And then in his memory he looked at you, and you were stunning. A creature of a winter night's imagination, eyes glittering like sapphires, white snowflakes adorning long, unbound black hair and your sixteen year old face innocent and happy.

"Severus, stop with the description, you're starting to sound like a bad romance novel." I was blushing fiercely.

"Anyway, I couldn't stand him having this memory, knowing he'd actually been there, kissing you, making you so happy. I was so angry I thought I would snap my wand, so I jumped up and tried to hit him. Of course, he'd felt me in his mind, so he was just as angry. We only got a few hits in before Lupin grabbed Charlie and Albus grabbed me.

"So what does this mean?" I broke the awful silence that had descended.

"I don't know, except that I probably owe Charlie an apology. Not that he'll ever get it." He scratched his temple, and winced as his fingers hit bruise.

"No, Severus, I meant what does this jealousy mean. What is it he had that you want? That moment? It'll never come back. Me? You're already my best friend." My head felt like it was still spinning in Minerva's fireplace. His fire crackled, and I jumped, the intensity building in the room. When he finally spoke, he didn't look me in the eye, but emptily somewhere over my shoulder, and his voice rasped softly.

"Best friend? Since when was that ever enough for a man in love, Sophie?

I couldn't speak. Words would not put themselves in any coherant order in my mind, unless it was the repetition of his statement rining in my ears. I rested my hand on his forearm, the fabric warm and smooth.

"Severus-" I began tenderly, but I never finished what I was going to say. In a flash, I felt severe pain burning into my palm, like a hot poker had branded me. I gasped, tears starting to form in the corner of my eyes. I pulled it back, staring blankly at the Dark Mark that blistered the skin of my pale, shaking hand. Grabbing my wrist, he examined it for only a second.

"Go see Poppy, right now." He demanded roughly, releasing me, all thoughts of romance or sweetness replaced by fear. The bruises on his face were fading quickly, but he looked older, weary. "I'm being summoned, so I have to go." I brushed a tear away absently with my good hand, the other throbbing awfully. He put his hand on my shoulder again, gently, and pulled me towards him for the briefest of hugs. He whispered, meeting my eyes.

"Please go see Poppy, Sophie. I'll return tonight.

I nodded blearily, feeling the night of wine, shock and pain weigh heavily on my spirits and mind. Before I closed the door behind me, I could just make out Severus rest his head in his hands a moment until he moved towards his bechambers, and I clicked the door shut.


	13. The Vigils

Every step to the medical wing of the magical school was weighed with lead. My palm was greasy with the orange salve Madame Pomfrey had gently smeared on it, and lightly wrapped in sterile gauze. She had given me an intense, searching gaze when I showed the burn to her, but had asked no questions, for which I was thankful. Even now, with the whisper of my soft-soled leather shoes down the halls betraying the weight I felt they should pronounce, my head was chaos.

His words rang in my ears, his low, smooth voice rippling over the syllables, drowning out the conversation of the occasional ghost or student. _Best friend? Since when was that ever enough for a man in love, Sophie?_ It was heaven and hell. Severus loved me. How long had he done so? Why? Did I love him? What if I did? With time our friendship could easily evolve into something more. Did we not grow closer than friends on the island?

But he did not behave as if he was pleased with either the realization or the announcement. I thought harder. No, no there was no reason why him being in love would bring him joy at this point in his life. I was now a weakness to him, and a danger to myself, to him and to Albus. What if he slipped in his control over his own thoughts, and revealed something to Voldemort? I began to see the horrors that he must have been thinking of when he slipped his declaration out into the open air between us. I could cost him everything he'd worked for, and I be used against him. And I could be killed or worse.

I would be dating a Death Eater, and though he was reformed in his ways and working for the side of good, he still had to keep the mindset of brutality and hate that ate him up inside. Could I handle a damaged man, with a history of horrors and abuse, with nightmares worse than mine? Could I accept the danger? It was so safe, my job, it was a job where I sat at a desk and drew on maps with faceless opponents, like a chess game. His job was gritty, in the thick of things with individuals, with costs both personal and greater. Say I allowed myself a relationship with him, if he was willing to commit, would I be able to bear losing him if he, as he likely would, have to make to ultimate sacrifice for the war? Could I let myself fall in love with him knowing I might have to give him up suddenly? My parent's betrayal made me unwilling to risk being left behind again, and I knew it.

The chaos of questions swirled, and when I found myself at the bottom of the long set of stairs up my tower, I shut the door behind me, blocking out the light from the hall. I sat on the bottom step, the cold of the stone unnoticed beneath my bottom. I put my head in my hands, and a few dry sobs wracked me. Thinking back to when I left Severus' rooms, this was the position I had left him in, his head in his hands. Was this what tore through his mind? These terrible questions and likely consequences, disturbing the simple, safe friendly waters that we had pretended was our relationship?

Thoughts came in unordered bursts, new directions hitting me from different angles every time I already thought there was more than I could handle. How could any women throughout the ages send their husband to war, knowing they may never return, and still stand upright? How I could I accept what a risk I was to him? But then, any woman with a husband in any secret work was the same, and if he choose to allow her in his life, if it was a risk he was willing to take, then was it right for her to try to protect him by staying away?

Misery was overwhelming my senses, flooding out what should have been one of the happiest moments of my life. Was it only an hour ago I had stood outside his door, a little tipsy, and scolded him for getting in a fight with Charlie Weasley?

Charlie. I thought on him for a moment. He too was in this Order of the Phoenix, at great personal risk. His parents must be pleased at least that he was finally home from Romania. Actually, I thought, all the Weasleys are in this Order of the Phoenix at great personal risk. I had met the family on a few occasions during my short time with Charlie in my sixth year at Hogwarts.

"How does Molly Weasley do it?" I asked out loud. It seemed to me to be the only question in which I had any hope of receiving an answer. I stood up with resolve, and climbed the stairs to my chambers, Severus' pained face in front of me the entire way.

Once there, in my office I found a crisp sheet of parchment and a quill. In what was unsteady writing compared to my normal, neat script, I put my plea in words.

_Dear Mrs Weasley,_

_I know it's been quite a long time since I've had any contact with you or your family, outside of teaching your younger children, who I believe have no idea that I've ever had any connection with the Weasleys. Most people chose to ignore that Sophelia Fudge ever existed, and I feared your family would be the same, however I hope I was wrong. May I request to see you privately, as soon as possible? Please let me know, with a time and place included, if you wish it._

_Sophelia (Sophie) Sinistra_

I sent it as soon as the ink was dry, trying to calm my thoughts, my nerves, and my stomach.

That night was filled with a different sort of nightmare from my usual kind.

I dreamt of myself in a black widow's veil over a freshly dug grave, with no company but the grim spectre of hopelessness.

Myself, gazing brokenly at with a long, thin body wearing a worn black suit, displayed in an unadorned coffin. His face was maggot-white and waxy, the high-collared neck barely covering the torn throat that caused his death.

I saw him fall in battle a thousand times, a thousand different ways. Hit with a simple _avada kadavra_, his life smothered out in a thoughtless second. Reduced to foaming madness with the unforgiving pain of _crucio_. Forced to perform hideous, twisted deeds under _imperio_. So many times he died before me, sometimes shuddering in my arms, rasping his last breath, sometimes far from me so that I couldn't get to him, struggling as I watched him breath his last alone, uncomforted.

Severus Snape, pushing me away, acting cruel, hitting me, and then a whisper of a thought reached me. _I will drive her away to keep her safe from me, from my the danger of my love._ I knew why he was being so awful, but he wouldn't allow me to love him. The dreams wouldn't relent, they hurt me in every possible way. And then the last was from a new angle.

Myself, raped and dying along in a bloody puddle that I knew was from my own body. He stood coldly over me, eyes revealing nothing under the scrutiny of the other masked Death Eaters. Him denying he knew of me. I lay there in physical and emotional agony. I felt my dream self die, but in my dream I was still there, standing beside my body. I watched him return hours later, and shatter over the dead body, pulling it to him, hugging it tightly against his own body as he howled in grief, more broken than I thought my own mind could manufacture.

I awoke like a cold bucket of water was dumped over me. I gasped for breath in the darkness of my bedroom, but air only came in sobs until I cried myself out. When tears stopped coming, and my eyes and face were sore and swollen, I sat on the end of the bed cross-legged, and wrapped my bare shoulders in a warm dressing gown.

He was at a Death Eaters meeting tonight, it was obvious considering the pain the fading burn on my palm. Did it hurt him like that every time he was summoned? Like being branded with a hot poker? I should ask him some time.

"Sinistra!" I jumped as my fireplace burst into bright green flames, and a gray-haired head showed up in the centre. I scrambled to the hearth rug instantly.

"Poppy? What's wrong?" Deep inside dread was building, and my dreams forced their way into my waking consciousness. I saw Severus fall to the ground, dead.

"It's Snape, he's just come back and he's hurt. You two are close, will you help me?" Her eyes were wide and pleading. I threw myself at the fireplace, and she ducked out just in time that I didn't hit her as I plunged through.

When I got to the hospital wing seconds later, I saw his still, black-clothed form laid out on the sparse table and bit back a scream. She said he was hurt bad, not dead, there was no reason to believe he was dead, I reminded myself firmly. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the bright, clear light pouring from everywhere after my darkened sleeping chamber. I hurried over to the bed, she had beaten me there. His clothes were torn and soiled by the looks of them, blood flowed freely over any exposed skin.

"Get a surgical tray." She demanded. "Second cupboard, third shelf on the right." I ran to the cabinet, flung the door open and pulled out the desired tray. When I returned just a moment later, she has magicked off his robes and suit, and had laid a sterile sheet over the lower half of his body. I had the tray hover at her elbow, and with a flick of her wand she sterilized the instruments. They glowed a fierce green.

"There nothing of immediate danger below the waist, it's mostly the torso that's damaged." I saw she was certainly correct. How he was still breathing, I had no idea. His body was a war zone. Every rib looked crushed, the skin that wasn't torn open in long jagged ribbons of flesh bore the mark of spell burns. His neck was black with bruise and drying blood. His face was nearly unrecognizable, bones broken and eyes swollen shut. One of his fingers was missing. Several bones were broken, sometimes in multiple places.

I cleared myself of emotion and pulled off my long-sleeved dressing gown. We set to work.

"This has to be the luckiest bastard I'll ever meet. Not one punctured a lung or an organ, as close as they came." Her voice was a little hysterical, but she spoke the words of the spells steadily as she healed each one carefully and fully. She joined the broken skin together to stop the bleeding on his neck and chest, after picking out strange pieces of shrapnel. Angry red marks remained. She whipped a few spells at his face, healing the broken bones there in a heartbeat.

I healed the bones in his arms, the gashes across his shoulders, the bruise on his neck, and the stump of his finger. It appeared to have been gnawed off, by the jagged edges, like a giant rodent had bitten it.

_Accio blue jar of barn salve!_ She called, catching it and placing it on the hovering tray. "Help me turn him over, Sophie." We struggled to lift his dead weight as gently as possible, without breaking open newly healed wounds. I doubted he could afford any more lost blood. His back was broad and sturdy, but riddled with large, blistering marks. They were like he had been struck many times over with a whip made of fire. Poppy healed the gashes, and handed me the blue of salve.

"Smear it on the burns. It'll leave scars, but it works faster than the orange stuff." I pulled off the top, and with three fingers scooped out a large blob. It felt like ice on my skin, and I rubbed it between my hands to cover them. I placed both hands on his shoulders. They felt like fire, and the cool of the salve left a hint of steam rising in the air. I rubbed the gel into the skin all over his back down to where the burns stopped. It glowed a faint blue, before soaking into the skin. The burns healed before my eyes, but left shiny marks where they had been.

We rolled him back so that he was face up, after a quick _scurgify! _on the bloodied sheet. Everything large and life threatening was taken care of, but if he had been conscious, he still would have been in unbearable pain. Poppy handed me the more familiar orange jar of burn salve.

"Tend to the burns on the front, they have more time to heal since he doesn't have to lie on them. Also, take a glance at his legs, and heal up anything of the problems there." She pulled up the sheet to reveal two thin, black-haired legs up to the mid thigh. "There's nothing wrong with this area." She gestured to his nether-regions. "He must wear some sort of protective shorts. Typical male, to armour his groin. I have to go report to Albus, but I'll be back soon. Just, take care of him." Her stern, tired expression softened as she met my eyes. "He'll pull through just fine, dear, just you watch." She allowed a glimpse of a smile before hurrying out of the room.

When things had calmed, he lay there like he was dead in my dreams, wrapped in white washed, blood-encrusted skin. His black hair splayed over the white pillow was clumped and filthy with sweat and grime.

"Professor?" Poppy gently called from a side table after she returned. She held a basin that steamed softly into the air, and a fluffy beige sponge. "It might be therapeutic for both of you if he was cleaned up for when he awakes." I took the items from her, along with a bottle of wash and a warmed towel.

Wringing excess water out of the sponge, I wiped it across his forehead. Dirt and mess rinsed away, and he stirred a little at the sensation. His face was even more pallid under the mess, and I bit my lip, trying to concentrate on not crying again now that I wasn't in an emergency adrenaline rush, as I slowly worked the dried blood from his eyelashes which was crusting them together. Occasionally I changed the water in the basin, when it got grey or pink or cool. I worked my way down his thin neck and breast bone, over the lean shoulders, across the scarred chest to where the blankets were pulled up to keep him warm. I moved my chair to the very end of his bed, and tugged the covers out to reveal his feet, which I had healed earlier. They were long and fairly well kept. I cleaned them carefully, removing traces of sweat and blood.

With fresh water and a different bottle of cleaner, I placed the basin under his neck so that his long matted hair was submerged. The water turned an awful pink almost instantly. I put my fingers in his tangles, and scrubbed the filth out of it without pulling his hair hard enough to wake him. I dumped that batch of water, and filled it again. This time I poured wash into my palm, and lathered it into the black mass, scratching and massaging his scalp. The locks came clean finally on the third scrub, and I placed a towel under his head to absorb the water after I had towel dried what I could.

An hour later he was clean, and I had healed all the little things Madame Pomfrey would not have concerned herself with in her more important task of keeping him alive. I healed up the tiny scratches, the cut in his lip that occasionally trembled as he slept, the bruises on his arm in the shapes of fingers.

He was clean, and whole and for now, he was safe. When I could not find a single thing to do to keep myself busy, or to make his sleeping form more comfortable, I pulled a chair right up to his bed so my knees slipped under the bed, leaned back, and drifted into an uneasy sleep. The sun rose in the east, filling the room with soft orange light through the stained-glass windows as Poppy magicked the overheads off.

My pillow was moving. It was also warm and smelled exceedingly good. I felt my head rise up and down twice on the smooth surface. When my eyes burst open, I saw myself with horror. Sometime during the night, I must have changed sleeping positions, because I was now using Severus' chest as I pillow, being perpendicular to what I hoped was his still sleeping form. My hair was splayed across his chest in long, unbound strands, and it took me a second to find my hands. One was firmly clasping his, the other arm rested under my top of my forehead, the hand gracing his sternum.

I moved slowly, as to not wake him, but I watched his whole body shiver while my hair drifted in waves across his unclothed chest. The hand under mine closed convulsively a few times in quick succession. My back cricked as I straightened up, and pulled my hair back over my shoulder, off of his skin. He sighed.

"I've died, haven't I." His voice was thick and raspy, and a littleÉ amused?

"I assure you, Severus, that Poppy and I did not stay up until dawn putting you back together for you to wake up dead." I was overflowing with repressed emotion from last night. Was this not what I had been fearing? No, for he had survived. _He can still be killed_ an awful voice inside me whispered. I clung tighter to the hand we shared.

"How else could I wake up to you sleeping in my arms, with my body whole and nothing worse than a little sore?" I blushed, and then fiercely ashamed.

"Oh Merlin, Severus, I had all my weight right on your chest. I'm so sorry, does it hurt much?" My face was painfully red, and tears met the corner of my eyes.

"It's fine." He said softly. "I would rather wake up a little sore with you, than perfectly fine without you." His expression darkened. "Sophie, the Dark Lord knows about me now. He found out last night, it's why he- why he-" He turned over and wretched into an empty basin on the other side of the bed. I pulled his hair back, out of the way. It was a moment until he could speak, and I handed him a damp cloth to wipe his mouth.

"I can't go back there, and when they found out I survived, they'll be after my head." A haunted look was creeping into his eyes, and he passed his other hand over his eyes a moment. It froze over his face, and he pulled it away so he could examine it. One finger was still missing, as it would be forever. Emotions passed over him, and finally he said aloud: "That was my wedding ring finger.

Sure enough, the finger missing was the one beside his left-hand pinky. I was chilled through to my spine, and my voice shook.

"Severus, what caused Voldemort to discover your true loyalties?" He paused, eyes still on the stump.

"Another Death Eater brought charges against me, that I had met with a ministry official and had leaked to her information. The Dark Lord dove into my mind to find out, but I had been at the order meeting at the time, so I blocked him hard. He felt it, and decided that meant McNair's accusation was true, that I had betrayed him. I was right up in his inner circle, so he took itÉ badly.

I thought of the condition he had been in when I first came to the hospital ward.

"They thought it would be funny if they left me at the Hogwarts gates for Albus to find my dead body. I don't know how I got back after I blacked out, though.

"But, why that finger, then?" He seemed certain that I had not caused this situation, but I still felt fear that I had been responsible for his pain, that if I had not been in his life, this would not have happened.

"Well," he hesitated, and looked at me and then quickly away. I bit my lip harder, and tastes blood welling up beneath the delicate skin. He took my hand firmly so that I could not pull it away. "The Dark Lord can tell what is touching the Dark Mark branded onto any Death Eaters skin, because he is touching the Mark of a Death Eater, so he can feel what they are all connected to. He laughed, during the beginning of the torture. He laughed and said he felt soft woman's skin against mine, he assumed I must have been with a lover. I think Wormtail bit it off." He wiggled the stump with a grimace, looking ill again.

I knew tears were falling freely down my wretched face, but all I could do was sit in shock. Because of that simple touch of my hand to his arm, he had lost forever a part of his body. If it were not for me, he would have escaped this ordeal completely whole in body, for even the scars on his back just blended in with other, older scars.

"I'm sorry, Severus, I should just go." I tried to pry my hand from his. Wet, salty drops were falling onto our mingled fingers. He looked back at me, his face surprised and hurt until he realized the emotions written all over my face.

"Sophie, come here." He gathered my resisting form into his weakened arms somehow, and once I stopped fighting him, I trembled against his warm, lean chest. His chin rested on my head, his hands curled onto my back. We held onto each other, and I knew my tears were dampening his warm skin, but he just soothed me until my shaking passed and the tears calmed themselves.

"I'm scared, Severus. What's going to happen now?" The words were muffled by the fact I spoke them into his shoulder, but he understood them clearly enough.

"We prepare for war, and to be honest, I'm scared too. I don't think I can handle another night like last night.

"You'll never have to pretend to be a Death Eater again, Severus. Never.

"NeverÉ" he repeated in a whisper. "That's right, never again. I can stand tall with Albus, with the Order, never skulking around again with backstabbing and betrayal.

He was silent a few minutes with the revelation. My eyes began to droop, but I didn't have the energy to move. Ignoring the crick in my back, since my backside was still in the chair, I felt myself drift into a dreamless sleep, surrounded with for now, a feeling of safety. I shifted a little, rubbing my cheek against his collar bone, letting my hand burrow under his shoulder. His four-fingered hand played with my hair, splaying the strands out and letting them drop against his bare skin. The last thing I heard was the gentle rumble of Severus' voice under my ear.

"I don't think I've ever felt anything so grand as your hair and skin, laying soft against mine while you sleep.

Author's note: I'm not after reviews, but I would like to know if there's more than an average of one person reading this per chapter. So if you could do me a quick favour if you're reading this story, please? Just hit the review button and write "yo" or something, just so I know this isn't going unread. Thanks!


	14. Remorse with a Side of Chocolate Biscuit...

When I awoke again, the sun spoke of noon and shone into my eyes. I found myself alone on the hospital bed. I twisted myself off, and stretched like a cat in the warm sunbeams, a pleasant break from the soon-to-be-winter chill. The muscles were sore from strange sleeping positions, but a bit of movement made them right. I tied my robe on tighter, and decided against wandering through the school in sleeping clothes, leaving floo powder the only option. Besides, the clock on the wall said I only had an hour until my classes started. It never occurred to me to find out what had become of Severus, I assumed he had been moved to his own bedchamber.

"All right, class, pull out last week's star charts and a white pencil.

They were restless today, unfocused and chatty. Something had roused my seventh year Ravenclaw/Slytherins, and I had no intention of letting whatever it was ruin my lesson. I blackened the single window on my fourth story classroom, which was just off of the base of my tower, and the charmed the star projector to where the lesson began. It was not long later when I began to lose my patience.

"Malfoy, I don't know what's put you in such a good mood, but I suggest you stop using your telescope in such an inappropriate manner before I snap it over your head." I snapped. The little ferret removed the instrument from it's position, and left Ms Parkinson alone. She giggled ridiculously, and I rolled my eyes. The last minutes ticked away, and papers shuffled as the class carefully packed up.

"Two feet on Pluto's influence on it's astral surroundings, due Monday.

Several Ravenclaws were unsettled, and one actually cried out. The Slytherins chuckled amongst themselves.

"But Professor, Professor Snape has already assigned us Ravenclaws three and a half feet on healing potions! We won't have time to do your essay!" I stopped and started down at the boy blankly. Once shaken from my shock, I questioned him, trying not to sound too curious or emotional.

"Professor Snape taught class this morning?" The student furrowed his bushy blonde brows.

"Yes of course, Professor, why wouldn't he?" I thought quickly.

"Wait, you said only the Ravenclaws have a three and a half foot essay? What about the other houses?" His eyes darkened and I was satisfied that I has successfully distracted him.

"He said that since the Slytherins were doing so well in his class that they only needed to write one foot on healing potions." Bitter rumblings followed his statement from one side of the classroom, snickers form the other.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Ravenclaw, I'm certain that with your acknowledged superior intellect, this essay will be no problem." I winked at my former house, and watched them straighten with pride. The Slytherins looked somewhat less smug. Good, I wish I could kick them all in the nuts. Or maybe just Malfoy. They filed out with the magical bell. I, on the other hand, took out my wand, stroking the polished wood fondly with my thumb before launching a few spells to tidy the classroom, remove the cover for the window, and pack up the projector.

After that, I hit the stairs to the dungeon. If that man was out of bed and teaching classes less than twelve hours after being seconds away from being declared dead, than he was going directly against Poppy's orders, and common sense.

I found him in nothing but his sleeping shorts, standing barefoot in his empty workroom with a slickly wet knife in his right hand. Blood seeped over his elbow, dripping down to the floor. He shook violently as the blade passed over his skin again and again, catching the drifting, dusty dungeon sunlight. I bit back nauseous fear and horrified shock, and walked steadily towards him.

"He'll know I'm alive the moment he touches the Dark Mark of another Death Eater. He'll know I'm alive, Sophie, he'll know. And he'll know where I am. He'll know, Sophie, he'll know." He spoke madly, without turning, the blade still moving. I placed my hand on his knife hand, and tried to firmly guide it away from the wound. He fought me, and he was stronger by far.

"Stop this, Severus. It won't work, even Albus said there's no removing the Dark Mark. We'll live with the consequences. Just please stop hurting yourself.

There was no evidence he was listening. He mumbled "he'll know" a few more times. I moved so that I was fully facing him, my steps unsteady in the growing puddle on the floor. Slowly, I reached my other hand out and rested it just above the ruined flesh, my skin just barely touching the oozing mess. In his distracted state he made another gash, this time across the white skin of the top of my hand. It broke open immediately, welling up with thick red blood. I choked off a cry of pain, smothering it into silence, and did not budge, waiting for the next cut.

But this seemed to reach him. He halted the blade above my hand, watching with a growing look of surprised shame and horror replacing the mad fear.

"Oh Sophie." He whispered. My other hand gripping his now-stilled knife wrist, I pried the blade out of his fingers and it fell to the floor with a metallic clatter. I felt the blood under my other hand, his life source welling up between my fingers, mingled with the stream from my hand.

He fell to his knees, ashen. The sudden movement shook sense back into me after the shocking last few moments, really only a minute of time that had stretched to maximum fullness. I pulled out my wand and healed his arm. The skin was left red but whole, with the exact same Dark Mark as there had been to begin with. Severus only gasped slightly when it happened.

"I woke up screaming just now," he admitted, his face fallen into his hands. "Poppy forced me to bed when after she found me teaching. The nightmares, they're so much worse than they've ever been. I was ready to try anything to remove it, anything. In the dreams, I could feel evil pouring out of it, creeping into me.

_Scourgify!_ I cleaned the blood on the floor, and then knelt beside him slowly, with a care for my hand which bled merrily all over my teaching robes. "Severus, open your eyes. You aren't dreaming anymore, this is all real." He lifted his head, eyes dark and stormy. My hand throbbed, and I fumbled a handkerchief out of my robe sleeve, and clumsily bound the still-bleeding wound up.

"There's no on chasing you right now, no evil filling you. You are apart from Voldemort for good now. You are no longer divided between sides, but are now one. You are a warrior, out in the free air, Severus Snape, no longer a shadow that slips in unseen and at all times dreads discovery.

I put my whole hand to his cheek, a rough stubble was beginning, and I smoothed back the tangled hair, tucked it behind his ear. I finally just hugged him, though my knees already hurt on the stone floor. His skin felt like ice, and when he shivered I realized again that he wore nothing but his sleeping shorts. I gently pulled him head from where it rested on my shoulder, and saw his lips were tinged blue.

"Severus, you must be freezing. Is there a fire lit in your rooms?" He shook his head no. For the house elves to have let a fire go out in a sleeping chamber in late November, he must have banished them. "Any of your rooms?" He shook his head again. I stood, and he followed heavily. Guiding him to an empty hearth, I found a small box of floo power. He began to slump against the stone, and I threw a handful of the sparkling green stuff in.

"Astronomy Tower!" I shouted, after we had struggled into the flames. A few spins and a flood of warmth washed over me as we reached my chambers. He staggered slightly and sat down on the hearth rug, staying as near to the fire as he could. I hurried over to the chest by my bed and pulled out and extra blanket, the one I sometimes took up onto the tower to stargaze under when I did not feel like using the formality of a telescope. I draped it over his bare back and shoulders, but not before noticing the shiny burn scars of a week ago still an angry red.

We sat silent on the rug, our backs resting against the side of the couch. I conjured tea, and we each held a cup. I absently noticed the pattern on the china I had made was the same as the cup Severus had used for the tea that knocked me out so Albus could send me to that island.

"How do you still have a couch after Filch's raids?" He rasped, breaking the stillness.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Just showed up one day, right back in it's old spot. Probably Albus trying to say thanks for helping." It fell quiet again. "Severus, what happened down there? From the beginning." I asked gently, putting my hand on his bare arm, under the blanket, below where I had found him just minutes ago trying to injure in some strange fit of madness. He took a slow sip.

"Have any biscuits?" He asked. I waved my wand again, and a generous plate of chocolate biscuits appeared. He ate one, dipping it in his tea so that the chocolate left a film you could see in the light. I barely noticed when I fell into my childhood habit of licking the chocolate off first, and breaking the rest of the biscuit into small pieces that I popped into my mouth. After that kind of healing we did last night, he should be ravenous.

"I woke up this morning, and you were again, using me as a pillow. Loathe as I was to move under such circumstances, nature forced me to get up, so I shifted you to the bed, and then went back to my chambers to shower and change. Poppy came by, inspected me far too closely, and I convinced her that I wouldn't leave my rooms, and that I would rest.

He ate another biscuit, this time a small piece of chocolate fell off of the biscuit, and melted slowly down the side of the cup. He was physically warming up, and his lips and face were returning to his normal colour.

"I, of course, consider my classroom as part of my rooms. The children showed up as usual, so when they came in I assigned them an essay, and rested while they wrote. This apparently wasn't good enough for Poppy, who burst in after the students left, and charmed me physically back into bed, even going so far as too remove my robes." He scowled at the fire.

"We're going to have words about that essay later, you realize, Severus." I matched scowl for scowl, but this one I aimed at him, until I gentled it with a smile. "And Poppy's right, when he healed you we took a _great_ deal of strength out of your body, so you need to make that up. Go on, you haven't explained much yet." I squeezed his arm. Fine black hairs I hadn't really noticed before covered them, except for the smooth pale skin of the underneath.

"Like I said- in there. I had nightmares, and I knew I wasn't completely asleep, but I felt like I was under _imperio_ for all the control I had over myself. I could barely feel the knife going through my skin, and I couldn't wake up. I was just so terrified that the Dark Lord would know, that he would know I was alive and that I would never be safe again. I didn't snap out of it until- oh Merlin- Sophie, let me see your hand." His eyes searched for mine, and I met them.

"I'm fine, and I don't blame you. Go ahead and take a peak." With this permission, I felt him move gently into my mind, and I concentrated on the memory of him cutting my hand.

"Wait, you haven't healed it yet?" He asked, concerned. He picked up my hand, with the handkerchief inelegantly covered in dried and fresh blood, and gently tried to pry open my clenched fingers. As they loosened, he peeled the ruined cloth off and inspected the wound. "I haven't got my wand. What is yours made of, maybe I can use it?

"Inflexible aged oak, thirteen and a half inches, with a core of unicorn hair. Will that do?" He inspected the wand carefully.

_Scourgify_!" His charm worked, and the blood on my robes disappeared, leaving the refreshingly sharp scent of rosemary. "Should do." He smiled a little, and aimed carefully at my hand. My wand was a little longer than most, and sometimes could be awkward in tight spaces. Ollivander had called it a battlefield wand, not a classroom wand. My thoughts blotted out his words, and it wasn't until a warmth replaced the aching pain that I realized he was done.

"Thank y-" I began, impressed by his neat work, leaving no marks and no evidence that there had ever been anything less than perfect skin. However, he stopped me with his fingers on my mouth.

"Don't you dare thank me. I caused that." He took his hand back from my face. "I should go back to bed, and this time I'll take a Draught of the Living Death to keep me there. And you have more classes this afternoon. Can I visit you later?

I shook my head, and for a flash he looked disappointed before it was replaced by a calm mask.

"You're not leaving your rooms for at least another day. I'll come visit you. Stay put." I jabbed him in the chest with my finger. "And I thought we already decided you're to stop hiding emotions from me." He smiled, a good look for him. It lit up his black eyes, giving them depth, and softened the harsh lines of his face.

"I promise I will take my potion and go to straight to bed." He stood and helped me up. The blanket fell off of his shoulders, and it struck me just how bare he was in only his shorts. I felt myself blushing, thinking again of where I had woken up this morning, face down on that chest. Forcing myself to look entirely at his face, and said my goodbye, and watched him floo back to his chambers.

Once he was gone, I pressed my hands to my flaming cheeks. _Damn that man, he was far too. . . I didn't know. . . just too something . . . _ I thought again of just last night when he said he loved me, and shivered with delight. _Severus Snape, I doubt you know what you're getting into._

I did in fact visit him as soon as my classes were over.

Albus had handed me a slip of folded parchment during dinner, the first I had attended in awhile. Cryptically, all it said was _pain in the ass_". I looked at him confused, and he gestured to the empty seat where a certain professor usually sat, fiercely frowning at the students who were trying to eat.

When I arrived at his chambers, I stood out side the entrance and said the words _pain in the ass_ with a bit of doubt, and feeling a little silly. Nothing happened. Then a tiny groan caught my ear, and the hanging moved slightly. I tried my luck, and pressed the tapestry aside. There was a door, and it was open, and opened further beneath my touch.

I slipped in, and found the sitting room silent and dark. No fire was in the stone walled fire place.

_"Lumos!_ I whispered. A pretty white glow poured out from my wand, and I used it to find Severus' sleeping chamber. Found a cupboard full of winter cloaks first, and then accidentally bumped my hip forcefully on a bookshelf in such a way that I was certain of a bruise later. Once I tried the door to his room, I thought that he may have warded it against intruders, but as I hadn't turned into any sort of creature, and my mind was still in tact, that he must have been too tired, or either just wasn't in the habit of warding his bedroom.

The sleeping chamber actually had a fire, but it gave off little light. I didn't need to worry too much about my soft footsteps on the hardwood, since Severus was making enough distressed noises from behind his bed curtains. I found an empty bottle on his bed stand, and held my wand up to it. _Sleeping Aid: 4-6 hours. Do not ingest caffeine or pepper-up potion within time between taking potion and sleeping_.

I put the bottle back down. He should be asleep for at least another two hours. I debated my options, biting my lip. Finally, I went to the foot end of the absolutely enormous four-poster bed, open the curtains, and sat down with my back against an ornately carved poster. I pulled the top feather blanket out from where it was tucked under the end of the mattress, and covered my knees, folding them up against my chest and rested my head on my folded arms. The bed was so big that even from where I sat, I was two and a half feet from where his feet ended. _That should be within the range of decency_.

I settled to watch him sleep, and was reassured by the fact that if he started having strange dreams, despite the potion, that I would be there to stop him from going a little crazy again.


	15. Not To Be Used For Snogging Purposes!

**Stepping Back for a Breath of Air**

A warm chuckle and a cold hand woke me. I was being gently shaken. Severus was fully dressed and standing at the end of his bed, where I sat perched against the bedpost.

"Some guardian you are." The sarcasm was tempered another warm chuckle.

"Mm?" I rubbed a bit of sleep from my eyes, glancing at him, confused. "Why are you up and dressed?

"Albus was in here minutes ago and almost threw a fit when he found you. Left muttering about impropriety and how foolish we were to allow any chance for speculation after that ridiculous court trial.

"He's probably right." I muttered, a little pink in the cheeks.

"Of course he's right, he's the Headmaster and therefore infallible." He frowned, a twist of his lips that was familiar to any student he had ever taught.

"What do you plan on doing tonight? Poppy will have your head if you don't rest." I got up off the bed and smoothed my rumpled robes.

"I'm not quite certain. I don't do well without a task." There was a crack of uncertainty, the opposite expression, which no student he ever taught would recognize.

"Well-" I started, and then chastised myself for yet again talking before thinking. "Hm. Well-" He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. I rolled my eyes at him. Hm, what could I do?

"Do you have anything to mark?" He prodded. I shook my head.

"Just some first year essays, but I had my heart set on leaving those until the last minute and then marking them with a bottle of wine to ease the pain.

He barked out a laugh. First year essays were renowned for their headache-creating capacity.

"Let me go poke around my chambers awhile, I'll think of something to bring down. Can't let you spend a whole evening without my company." I gave him a wry smile, but as I left his chambers and entered the dank dungeon passageways, I realized that I didn't want to go the whole evening without his company regardless of how he felt.

My rooms were as I left them. Comfortably messy, strewn with neat files of unidentifiable papers, and random pieces of chess sets, maps and drawings. I sifted through some files, and under a stack of last year's exams I found a pile of folders that caused shock. The reports from those I had set to work for Hogwart's defense, I had forgotten about them! Ah crap. I pulled the stack out, waved my wand and shrunk them, and swept them into a clean coffee cup so they wouldn't get lost- again.

Holding the mug carefully, I wound my way back down the stairs of my tower. As I neared the bottom, I heard a muffled giggle. I paused. The giggle came again, followed by the deeper chuckle. Anger began to bubble up behind my calm exterior. Two figures were slowly creeping up the stairs, hindered by each other. A disheveled couple, the boy with his hands moving under her blouse, and girl undoing the boy's tie. A dam somewhere in me burst.

"This tower is not to be used for snogging purposes! Twenty points from both of your houses, and detention with Filch!" They scurried away, and I didn't even see who the presumptuous little upstarts were. I felt violated. Despite all those rumours, I never allowed students to get away with using what I felt was an extension of my office as a place to make-out.

I burst through Snape's office doorway and slammed the mug down on his desk. He watched a crack run up the side of it, and quickly whipped out his wand.

_Reparo!_ The crack disappeared, and he was relieved when he found no liquid leaking out onto his desk. His voice was smooth and the tone was the one with which he graced unruly students. "Care to explain.

I summoned a chair out of thin air, a cushy black leather affair, and sank into it with an audible thump.

"Well?" The question hung in the air. I didn't answer, still scowling furiously. He pressed on, his own slight scowl forming. "Is there a reason my house just lost forty points?

"Don't forget the detentions with Filch." There was a silence in which I roughly magicked my reports full size. "Two students were trying to sneak into my astronomy tower to snog. I didn't know they were two of yours.

He snorted.

"I think I know just the pair." He let me simmer for a few more minutes, then I calmed myself down.

"Damn it, I forgot a quill and paper." I rubbed the bridge of my nose.

"Here, I suppose I owe you for keeping me out of trouble this afternoon." He unlocked a drawer and pulled out a high quality quill, a magically sealed bottle of ink so dark green it looked black, and parchment that was undeniable his.

I squared up the corners of my stack of parchment, and unstoppered the ink. Taking care to dip the nib of the quill properly, I wrote my note to Filch requesting he supervise a detention for two that would cool teenage hormonal passions. It was winter after all, perhaps some shoveling the snow on the kilometre long front walkway? Perhaps going under the castle into the frigid sewers and de-icing the drain holes? I was certain Filch could imagine something appropriate and memorable. I didn't want to be cruel, just let them know that my tower was, in fact, off-bounds for such purposes.

By the time the note was written, my anger had receding, and I began to sift through the pile of reports. Of course, the one from Severus was still on top, written on the same stationary, with the same ink I was using. Halfway through sorting them by thickness, I recalled something that would be handy, still in my office. Ah-ha, an answer that would save me walking a long way back up to my rooms, or a dizzying trip by floo.

"Severus, do you mind if I open your window?" He looked up from his marking, inquiry in his black eyes.

"Sophie, you do recall that it is nearly December, right?" I smiled at him, and moved towards the arched-stone window frame, nestled between his shelves of disgustingly pickled items.

"Of course I do. It'll only take a moment, really." He nodded, and pulled his robes closer around him as if for protection from the imminent cold. I unlatched the ancient metal clasp, and gave the resisting glass a firm but careful push. It creaked, and slipping beneath my fingers, but barely budged. I tried again, this time concentrating on opening it as if I were doing a spell. It gave way easily, but noisily, both halves swinging out into the night, and I reached into my pocket as they settled.

_Accio map of Hogwarts!_ I called out, with a swish of my wand. Icy air was rushing in, crisp on my face, invigorating as it twirled the loose strands of my bound up hair, but soon I was feeling chilled, and hoping that the map would hurry up. Before too long, though, I saw a glimmer racing towards me, and soon enough the large, rolled up map was so close that I reached out and grasped it.

_Firmohomora._" The window shut with a slam, and the lock slid back into place. I whirled around, and Severus sat there with his wand still raised. With a wink, he went back to work. I watched him a moment before I moved. His black hair shifted over his face as his head moved, and I decided that I found his ears particularly attractive, which was unusual for me. The nose in profile had a great deal of character, much like it's owner, broken at least once, with a beaky curve to the prominent feature. It suited him in all it's awkward glory. The rest of his features were relaxed, and softer, evidence of his absorption in his task. That is until his jaw muscles clenched and he turned to meet my gaze.

"Now really, Sinistra, stop that." I walked back to my chair and sat, setting the roll on the enormous desk, but did not cease in my inspection of him.

"No. I'm feeling too playful to get back to work and would rather annoy you at the moment.

"Well, it's working." He grumbled, and pretended to ignore me as his eyes read the same line of poorly scrawled text over and over. His cheek bones were too noticeable, and I wondered how hypocritical he was in his admonishments over my eating habits. I at least never lost weight or body mass when I went nutritionally nuts for awhile, but he seemed to be skin and bones. For all his showing up at the Great Hall for every meal, not much food seemed to be entering his body. The skin itself was onion white, with a scar on both his chin and his temple.

"I said stop it!" He had given over pretending to ignore me, and scowled, but a glint in his eyes said he was a little amused as well.

"Or what?" I challenged with a small laugh, absorbing the way his hair was so black that it shone blue, instead of a more golden shine.

"Or I'll throw you in the lake." A dark smile formed on his face.

"And how will you manage that unhexed and unseen by students?" I felt a little smug. He wouldn't dare. My eyes traced the shape of his face, and he watched them do it.

"That's it, I warned you." Before I could defend myself, he shot a gentle stunning spell at me, leaving me capable of speech, which I'm sure he did on purpose.

"Severus Snape you unbind me right now!" I scolded with my best school matron voice. He merely picked me up, slung me over his shoulder, and walked towards the cloak cupboard I had seen earlier.

"Don't use that tone on me, Miss Sinistra. I looked it up, and apparently I actually taught you potions for a year before you dropped it. So as your former professor, you can hardly expect to be able to scold me as you would one of your students." As he made this speech, he sorted through the middle of the cloaks with the hand that wasn't steadying me. He also clearly found this all very amusing.

I, unable to move, tried to process that he was in fact carrying out his threat, that he seemed to be trying to carry it out by means of a cupboard, and that Severus, dark, handsome Severus, had at one point been my professor. Finding what he was looking for, he walked into the dark cupboard, pressing through the cloaks despite my protests and questioning of his sanity.

Expecting to find the wooden back of the cupboard, or at the very least a wall, instead I found myself being carried up a flight of stairs. torches bursting into flame as we passed and then darkening again.

"If you promise not to bite or kick me, I'll take the spell off." He chuckled. I though a moment. As it was with my magically bound body, all I could see was the back of his robes.

"Grudgingly agreed." It came out more sulky than icy, which was what I had been aiming for. Now I could see the stairs and the walls and the torches that had been flickering in my peripheral vision. It was very disorientating seeing everything fall away, and then finally he stopped again, before the motion made me queasy.

"Where are we?" I asked, lost.

"Well you didn't expect me to live in the former chambers of Salazar Slytherin without finding a secret or two, did you? This passage takes you out onto the grounds, bypassing the whole leaving-the-dungeons necessity." Sure enough cold air burst in, but Severus walked on with his burden, and I was suddenly glad for him acting as a heat-bag to keep me from being totally frozen. But I noticed something odd.

"Severus, why are you taking me this way? The lake is on the other side of the castle?" He was silent except for a chuckle. I made a mental note to remember that Severus made good on even ridiculous threats. We neared the edge of the forest, but before I could open my mouth to once again nag him with a question, he apparated with a soft pop.

Blinding sunlight and shocking heat met us, and I felt myself being tossed into the air. A second later I was submerged in warm water until I gently hit a smooth, sandy bottom. I inelegantly struggled upward until I broke the surface and tread water, my heavy winter robes soaked, my hair sodden and messy, and my wand missing. There stood Severus on the shore only metres away, laughing and smug.

Once I was on shore, I put my hand palm side up and gave him an expectant glare. He smiled in a satisfied fashion as he returned my wand. I spelled my robes dry, and white salt marks stained the dark fabric. My hair I unpinned, untwisted and unbound, letting it fall in sopping wet waves down my back. I resisted the urge to shake it out like an animal, and spray the man.

"Where are we?" I demanded, rolling my eyes at the situation.

"Not quite certain, to be honest." He admitted, unbuttoning his outer wool robes at the top.

"What!?" I nearly yelled. I stopped before I could say more. Severus is a rational, careful and thoughtful person. He would not just apparate to a random place that could possibly be swarmed with muggles.

"It's a little place I own. I'd have to look up the exact island on the bill of sale, but I own everything within the tree line, out about thirty metres into the water." I took a good look around. There was very heavy tropical vegetation making a thick wall around a rough rectangle about thirty metres deep and fifty metres long.

"There's enough anti-muggle wards around the perimeter to keep even swarms of tourists away." He stripped off his robes, revealing a black wool suit underneath, and he made quick work of dozens of buttons. Down to a crisp white shirt and trousers, he unbuttoned the top of the white shirt, and then sat down on the sandy beach to remove his socks and shoes. Once they were off, he stretched out on the beach with his hands under his head, and his eyes shut, before muttering a sun blocking spell that made him glow white a moment.

I stood in wonderment, still shocked at the situation.

"Why'd you bring me here? Why did you buy this place?

"I bought this place to relax a little, but it's been awhile since I've felt like coming. Far too cheery sometimes. Plus I don't want to sully it with work or the war. And I don't want people to notice me constantly disappearing.

"Does Albus know?" I followed his example, and removed my heavy robes, which was a relief since I was beginning to sweat from the hot sun.

"He knows I go somewhere, but no details.

"So why did you bring me here? This doesn't quite seem like a punishment from bothering you." I chuckled, and kicked off my shoes.

"Well, I said I'd throw you in the lake, didn't I? I didn't specify which lake. Though as an ocean, I doubt this counts as a lake. Would you have preferred the lake at Hogwarts?" I thought of the dark, frozen body of water on the grounds and shivered despite the heat.

"No, this is much better. But I thought this was your little sanctuary. Why show it to me?" My socks came off and I felt the warm sand caress my bare skin.

"I figured that if you had resorted to looking at my face as something interesting, you were obviously in a dire need of a change of scene.

"How dire?" I laughed, catching a sight of my unshaven legs, and quickly charmed them smooth before bundling my dress up around my knees and laying back on the beach not far from Severus.

"Oh, as dire as dire can be." I rested my head down, closed my eyes, and just let the sunshine pour down on me. Sleep crept up, and I took a glance at Severus. He too appeared to be loosing a battle with his consciousness. I muttered the same sun-blocking spell he had used minutes ago, and let myself drift off into brightly lit dreams.


	16. From Sun Burn to Phoenix Flame

The next week I glowed slightly, the sun still warm on my skin when I remembered it, even in the draughty castle at night. Severus swore me to secrecy, and I agreed easily enough. The reports still sat abandoned on my desk, and I told myself that tonight after classes I would lock my office door until they were at the very least read through.

I picked up the one under Severus', written on the student scroll paper that was used for essays. Harry Potter's reported that the snakes he had encountered were reluctant to speak of what they saw in their travels.. He had told them of the shame Voldemort had placed on their species, and they had become so indignant that they spread the word before him. Now, any snake he encountered already knew and agreed to join a sort of serpent watch. They also took so much interest as to inform other species to do the same. Harry reported that he had opened the Chamber of Secrets for Filch a few times, and waited to seal it again once he was done.

I snickered at how long Harry would have been exposed to Moaning Myrtle while waiting for Filch to return.

The next was indeed Filch's report, and it was slightly grimy, like the parchment had at one time been rubbish. It merely said that he had been in the Chamber of Secrets exactly eight times, had clearly away most of the debris, and was beginning to stockpile supplies. No word yet on making it cozier in case it needed to be used to protect the younger students. That might need to be done with a touch of Albus. I made a note on the parchment in red ink to contact Albus, and Honeydukes, about the atmosphere, and possibly sneaking in a few barrels of sweets along with the oatmeal and salted beef, which was what Filch had decided was appropriate for food.

A few more reports slid by, and I made notes. This was taking longer than I had expected. As I was immersed in Professor Sprout's overly detailed charts of the exact species and locations of the plants she had placed and speed grown over the walls, an owl scratched at my window. The thought that perhaps it was from Severus popped into mind, and I blushed as I remembered that he never bothered me with a note before he visited, he just came.

The owl was so old and decrepit that I had to scoop it off the windowsill, where it had collapsed, and lay it by the hearth to warm up. When it had rested enough to move, I conjured a bowl of water and some owl treats before untying the note bound to its scaly leg.

_Dear Sophie,_

_Oh darling, it has been too long. I was so pleased to hear from you. When there was all that unpleasantness with your family, we thought you would want some space, not to be bothered with people who are forced to work so closely with the minister. I daresay now that we were wrong._

_How are you? Are you keeping well? Are your rooms warm enough in that castle? I'm constantly knitting to keep my boys warm enough. And Ginny, of course. And Harry and perhaps this year Hermione. Oh well, I do go on._

_I'd love to see you, and more seriously, I would love to talk to you about what you wrote about. I suppose I can only think of one reason why Professor Snape and my Charlie would get in a fist fight. They'd never have any real problem with each other before, other than that Severus was a git, and Charlie was a Weasley._

_How about our house? Maybe come round lunch? It'll just be me, the rest of the family is out. Tomorrow too soon? I'll fix you up something nice._

_Let me know, and please don't mind Errol, he's just a bit past his prime._

_Fondly, Molly Weasley_

The note took me aback. I had expected a reply from Molly, but never quite so receptive. I had underestimated the woman. Glancing over at the owl named Errol, who had passed out, or possibly died, it was hard to say, I decided a trip to the Owlery was necessary.

_Dear Molly,_

_Tomorrow is perfect, I can never thank you enough._

_Sophie_

With a smile twisting at my lips, I got back to work demolishing the reports.

The next day found me standing in a frozen drizzle outside of The Burrow for just as long as it took for Molly Weasley to open the door and pull me inside.

"Oh dear, do come out of the rain." She gave me a tight, motherly hug and had my cloak and hat off in a flurry of fabric.

"Mrs Weasley, it's so good to see you again." I smiled and took a look at the woman. She looked more care-worn, touch more gray in her vibrant hair and her eyes tired, but still, she appeared genuinely pleased to see me.

"Molly, Sophie, it's Molly. Now come this way, I've whipped up a good solid luncheon." She waved me through the mis-matched and cozy house until we reached the kitchen, and a small wave of memory swept over me. Last time I was in this bustling and homey room, I was on the arm of a sturdy red-head. Well, the actual last time I had more accurately been _in_ his arm_s_ rather than _on_ his arm.

Molly guided me to a well-used chair at the end of the long table, and began spelling the food from the counter to the table. She settled herself down, and rested her elbows on the table.

"Now Sophie, I just want you to know that we never intended to alienate you after your parent's betrayal, but it seems that we have done so, so first of all, I'd like say Arthur and the family and I are so sorry." I was a little taken aback.

"There's no need to apologize, Molly. For awhile I was. . . unfindable. Headmaster Dumbledore had me lay low at Hogwarts while I recovered and began to put a life back in order. Changing my name also hid me from those who knew my parents. I doubt your younger children even remember the short time I was with Charlie, or that I even know your family.

We began to eat, and the food was spectacular in a more personal, individual way than the tasty but mass-produced meals at the school. The two of us made small talk over our lunches, and as the coffee was poured and the pudding served, we got to business.

"Now, you sent me that note for a reason, dear, so let's hear it." I took a deep breath, my knuckles whitening around the cup handle.

"Molly, I wanted to ask how it is you deal with having loved ones in danger." She examined my blushing face.

"Has this anything to do with Severus lashing out at Charlie the other night?

"You're far too clever for me." I gave her a wry look.

"It comes after having seven Weasleys. So?

"Yes, I'm talking about Severus. We've become good friends, but I don't know how to deal with the danger he's in. I mean, even though he's no longer running with the Death Eaters, now they're hunting him, and I fear I'm putting him in danger by distracting him or involving him in my work, and I worry about what he's doing with that Phoenix order stuff, and I worry that it's getting to be too much for him, that he's doing more than he can handle, and Molly I just don't know what to do or to feel or to think or to. . . damn it. . . I just don't know!" The last part rushed out in a half-sob. The older woman put her hand on mine, warm and dry and patted it a moment.

"One day at a time, dear, that's all we can do. Every single member of my family is in danger, and it tears me apart, but I know I have to stay strong for them if we're going to get through this. You do what you can, Sophie. Do the work ahead of you with to best of your ability, support those who need you, and when it gets too much, go find comfort. It's important to trust someone enough to go to them when you need it, you'll make both of you feel better. If Severus is the one who care for, trust him, deep down he is a good man.

She finished her speech, and we both took long sips of coffee.

"I'm sorry he hit Charlie." She chuckled into her cup.

"You weren't responsible for that. The boys will have to deal with it. Not to pry, but how did that come about? I was in the kitchen and came in and found then being held back!

"Not to reveal any secrets, but from what I've learned, Dumbledore mentioned the Minister of Magic. When he did, Charlie thought of a rather personal memory of the two of us dating, and Severus caught a bit of it. I think he got jealous. Charlie's alright, isn't he?

"Oh, he's fine. He's received much worse at work. Though as a mother, I am very glad that Severus didn't think to use his wand. That boy knows more hexes than I do recipes." She toyed with her dessert. "Though you do know that you caused the downfall of Severus' ironclad emotional wall, right?" Her voice was light, but her point was made.

"I wouldn't say it's was all me, I mean-

"Mum, have you seen my gloves, I think I left them here in the kitch- bloody hell!" The red-headed man burst into the room, searching until his eyes met mine.

"Hello Charlie." I smiled at him. He looked shocked, and I didn't blame him. I at least knew he was alive and well, whereas for all he knew I had dropped off the face of the planet right after our graduation from Hogwarts.

"Bloody hell. . . " Was all he could say as he stared at me.

"Charles Fabian Weasley snap out of it." She frowned at him. He visibly shook himself, but apparently was still tongue tied.

"Bloody hell. Sophie, I mean Miss Fudge, or Mrs. . . something, I mean-

"It's Sophie Sinistra now, Charlie, not Fudge. You remember, right?

"Sorry, I mean, bloody hell, Mrs Sinistra, how are you?" He hadn't stopped looking at me.

"It's Miss Sinistra, but it's also still just Sophie, Charlie." I laughed a little at his confusion.

"Damn, Sophie, I didn't think it was possible for you to grow more beautiful but there you are.

"Charlie, put yourself back together." Molly got up and smacked his face gently. He came and sat down across from me, the sense returning to him.

"Sophie, where have you been? How are you? What are you doing now?

"I'm teaching at Hogwarts now, it's been, my goodness, eleven years. How are you?

"Fine, fine.

"Charlie, your gloves are under the good tea pot." He found them on the shelf where she had pointed and turned to go.

"I have to get back to work right away, but come back and visit?

"I promise." I smiled at him, and he left, still muttering _bloody hell_ under his breath. A silence fell over Molly and I, but it was quickly broken as she began to laugh, and soon I joined in. The air between the two of us was relaxed and calm, and we polished off our coffee with light chatter and kind words until I had to leave to get ready for my class.

A note came that night as I marked alone in my tower, the iced rain pounding above. The owl was drenched and miserable, so I took the message quickly to let it fly off to the Owlery.

_Your presence is requested tonight. Go to the forest apparition point for further instructions._

_Albus_

Curious, I tidied my desk, bundled up and immediately set out into the storm. Feeling like the owl who had delivered my message, I saw a dark-cloaked figure waiting for me at the point.

"Take my hand." I heard a deep, familiar voice whisper as the figure extended the long-fingered limb. Trustingly, I obeyed, and found myself disapparating away. When we settled, it was in the shadows of a dingy alley, looking at an equally dismal street. He cast a very small _lumos. _A scrap was placed in my free hand, parchment with the headmaster's handwriting that said _12 Grimmauld Place._ "Memorize it quickly." Severus whispered again, retaining my hand, warming it from the cold with his own.

I did as he asked, and across the street a house blossomed greyly between two others. He led me towards it, after burning the paper, and knocked on the door with soft, smart raps. It opened, and I was swept in.

For the second time today, Molly Weasley met me, but this time there was no hug. She seemed troubled and distracted.

"It'll start in a minute, Severus." She left and headed away down the dark hall. I saw a grim umbrella holder, a closed set of curtains, and mementos of a house made to be filled with evil.

"Where have you brought me, Severus?" I whispered. He pulled back the glistening hood of him cloak, and then did the same to mine.

"This is the Order of the Phoenix headquarters, Sophie." He squeezed my hand reassuringly, and then released it.

We entered the kitchen to find it filled with witches and wizards who eyed me suspiciously, some longer than others. I recognized a few by sight. There was, of course, the older Weasleys, Severus and Albus. I saw Remus Lupin, a friendly wizard who had saved my sanity when I first discovered a boggart in the cupboard of the teacher's lounge which had turned into an enormous fanged clown before he could put it away. Beside him was a pink-cheeked witch with whom I had shared a bedroom throughout my Hogwarts years.

"Hestia!" I exclaimed with a smile. She waved me towards her and patted the seat next on the bench. I saw that her other hand was firmly entangled with Professor Lupin's, and that she bore a simple band on her wedding ring finger. It brought my mind back to Severus, and his injury. How was he dealing with it? We had not spoken about the missing digit since that first morning after.

"Oh Sophie, it's about time you got involved.

"It's so good to see you, Hestia. But I'm not certain what I'm doing here, Albus just sent me a-.

"Professor Sinistra, a word please?" The man himself appeared and led me away to a side room. Inside was him, me and Severus, who sat in a corner. "I've asked you here tonight to join the order. We feel you have proven yourself trustworthy, and we believe that your plans for Hogwarts are vital for the Order's total plans. You have a choice, right now.

I nodded, feeling cold in my wet cloak. Albus continued, pacing about and occasionally looking me straight in the eye piercingly.

"You can either say no now, and we'll take you back to your tower and obliviate you, or you can say yes, and take on the responsibility we are asking you to take. It is your choice, and entirely up to you." I really couldn't see myself saying no, but I wanted to know more.

"And if I accept, what takes place?

"Then we take you into the kitchen, and you swear an oath of loyalty over Phoenix flame. If that goes well, then you'll be a full order member, and our strategy specialist. You'll present all your current data next meeting, and after that will report all updates. Also, if there's an emergency, you'll be summoned, but you can choose to not answer if your circumstances don't allow you to leave.

"Phoenix flame?" I questioned, a little nervous.

"It's just a control measure, and that is also only if you choose to join us. We didn't use it the last time Voldemort rose to power, and it caused great sorrow.

"Well, I do agree whole-heartedly to join you, I just wish you could tell me a little more about this Phoenix flame business. . . 

So that was how I found myself ten minutes later standing in the centre of a circle of order members who held their wands so that either end of theirs rested upon then ends of the ones beside them. I felt naked. They had dressed me in only a loose white robe, my hair unbound, and my wand sat with my clothing in a bedroom upstairs. I scrunched my bare toes against the cold stone floor, and wished the ritual wasn't so strict.

I followed the fast but detailed instructions Minerva had given me upstairs, and held my hands outstretched and cupped, so that they could have kept water. Out of the air burst a blur of gold and red flame, and it nestles on my hands. I brought the weight towards me and held it to my chest, but I couldn't see, the light had temporarily blinded me.

"Sophelia Sinistra, do you choose to join the Order of the Phoenix free of coercion and of your own free will?" Dumbledore's voice boomed.

"I, Sophelia Sinistra, do so choose to join the Order of the Phoenix free of coercion and of my own free will.

"Do you choose to join knowing that you will bear the responsibility of the utmost secrecy.

"I do." The ball of flame in my arms felt warm, but not painful.

"Do you choose to join knowing that your life and safety will be at risk?

"I do." The flame grew a little hotter, and I felt it spread throughout my body.

"Do you join knowing that you will be responsible for the lives of not only your fellow members, but of the civilians of both the magical and muggle worlds.

"I do." The fire in my body started to burn uncomfortably all over.

"Do you accept the invitation to join the Order of the Phoenix, and uphold all that this order stands for?

"I do so accept and swear to uphold everything the order stands for.

The burning was growing painful, and it was so bright that I had not regained my sight but in fact was more blind.

"Through Phoenix flame you have been proven true,. Join us, Sophelia Sinistra." The light and pain died away, and as my eyes recovered, I saw that the circle of members had broken as people moved about. I found myself cuddling Fawkes, who cooed in my ear and made me forget any bitterness I had ever felt for the swan-large creature. Albus came over, and took the bird onto his shoulder.

"There's a bath prepared for you upstairs. Take your time, cool down, get dressed, and then come down and we'll start the meeting." He winked and left, stroking Fawkes fondly. Minerva and Molly led me upstairs. I was still shocky from the events so newly transpired, and found myself drenched in sweat, so I was happy to sink into a lovely tub filled with water.

I was now a member of the Order of the Phoenix.


	17. Winter

I sat back in the bathtub, and exhaled deeply a few times. In the Order. Officially. Gone were my days of hiding in corners from the real world. Of being the person who stayed behind the lines and drew on charts and such was relatively safe, but now I was on the front lines of the war against Voldemort. Things left undone plagued my mind, and like a database in my brain I organized what I could get done, and what I could get others to do, and how to expand on my earlier plans, and to brainstorm new ideas. They ravelled around, and it was hard to keep them from tying themselves in knots.

A knock at the door disturbed my thinking.

"Sophie, you're going to catch your death if you don't get out of that tub." Molly's motherly voice called. I was surprised to see my fingers pruney, and that the water had cooled off very quickly leaving the exposed skin goose-bumped.

"Has the meeting started yet?" I answered as I dried off with a quick spell, and towelled the water from my tangling hair.

"Finished. We started it shortly after you were sworn in. Professor Snape can fill you in, he already planned on giving you an over view of the meetings since day one, so one more won't hurt. Come chat, we're waiting downstairs.

Fully dressed in the clothes I arrived in, after a freshening charm that left them warmed and scented slightly of lavender, I left the bathing chamber and followed Mrs Weasley downstairs again.

People had already mostly left, and just the few residents were still sitting around the large kitchen table, finishing up the dregs of ale and butterbeer. Severus sat with Remus Lupin and Bill Weasley, and they were engaged in some sort of dispute, with Remus moderating.

"Shut up, Remus, we all know your opinion so there's no point trying to pretend that you're in the middle here." Severus snapped. Bill slammed his heavy clay mug down, ale sloshing down the sides.

"Hold it there, Snape. Remus is just trying to keep a cool head on things, which is more than I can say for you or me. The point is you can't. . . " He trailed off as he noticed his mother and I standing in the doorway. They all turned to see what he was looking at. I raised an eyebrow at Severus, and he stood up and met me, barely hidden anger flashed in his eyes.

"Are you ready to go or do you need more time?" He nodded, and took my elbow, not bothering to say goodbye nor giving me time to do much more than wave at Molly before we were out of the house and onto the poorly lit street. Still grasping my arm, he apparated us back to the point at Hogwarts from where we had left.

A storm was moving in. The cold air blew around us, tangling our robes, and I remembered the cloak I had brought from upstairs. Eddies of snow built around our boots, and the stillness filled the moment. He turned from me, carefully never glancing my way, and without a word leaned on the nearest tree, as if for support. The palm touching the tree was bare, and the bark was storm broken and rough, ice filled the cracks. He didn't seem to feel it, his head hung out of my sight against his chest. Clouds of panted breath smoked out above his shoulders, the only sign he was alive.

I shivered. It was colder here in the woods, the wind howled in the trees, and Severus didn't make a sound. Crunching the snow beneath my boots, I put my hand on his shoulder, the heat of my skin melting the snowflakes that blew off of the trees onto his cloak. He reached up and put his hand on top of mine, holding it. I noticed the spot where the finger was missing but didn't really think about it. He clung to it a moment, squeezing, and something I could have sworn was a dry sob ranked him just once.

"Severus." I whispered, and inspired by a rare thought of romance, I pressed my lips against the rough skin on the back of his fingers.

"Don't!" He rasped immediately, the steamed breath flowing out in a burst. He whirled back around to face me, and his expression was unreadable. "Don't. Tonight," He started, but halted a moment, catching his breath. His eyes searched mine, his dark, shifting arrows polished by the reflected moonlight. He tried again, and I didn't interrupt.

"Tonight, Dumbledore spoke to me before he spoke to you about joining. He told me that whatever was between us has to end. I told him that he was imagining things, that there is nothing between us, that we were just friends, like any other of the professors. He laughed. He laughed right in my face, and called me a fool. ÔAny child could see that you love each other, even if you've been too blind to see it,' he said. He told me if we didn't put an end to it now, he would. ÔPut her out of your mind, Severus, this will get both of you killed if you fail to. Maybe after the war it will be safe, if there aren't enough Death Eaters out there willing do to anything to hunt you down and kill you and those you love, but until then back off," he said.

Shock split me, like I was torn from one end to the other in a single rip. My cloak fell to the winter ground unnoticed. He reclaimed my hands, trying to chaff warmth into them with his own freezing fingers.

"Do you love me, Sophie? Is what Albus said true?" He looked away, at shadows playing in trees. I looked in my heart, but did not have to go very deep before I found a truth welling up.

"I do love you, Severus." My voice was hoarse, but the words hung in the mist as clear as if they were rung from bells. He caught my eyes again, a glimmer of hope sparked on the impenetrable onyx.

"Is there a chance for us after the war, when life is safe again?" He stood there, a black statue of a man, frozen in expectation. I flung myself at him unrestrained, and he caught me in his arms, held me close to him, both of us trembling and shaken.

"Oh of course, Severus, of course." I murmured into his neck, over the screams of the winds and the rustling of ice-coated branches.

Like a pocket of summer in a winter nightmare, I could have been dreaming when he tilted my chin up with cold fingers, when the soft sound of him inhaling brushed my ears, when his mouth covered mine. His lips were warm, he tasted of ale, and kissed me with such a fury I felt like I has been swept up in the storm.

We broke apart reluctantly, and as soon as I was out of his embrace I was chilled through, struggling to breath before the storm stole the air away.

"Goodbye for now, Dear One." Tears formed in my eyes as the words formed on my tingling lips. He reached out a hand, palm up, and his stark black brows met in concentration. A misty glow covered his palm, and then solidified into a shape, which he slipped into my robe pocket. He pressed his lips to my forehead, and then I left the woods, left my cloak, left my love standing in the winter storm alone.


	18. St Mungo's

That night I got back to my tower, and could not remember half the steps. The muffled sounds of clumsy teenagers attempting intimacy met me at the top of the stairs. I climbed the ladder, wand out, and shot out two curses before the couple could even register their shock. Not bothering to identify them or to take points, I went into my personal chambers and slammed the door behind me.

There it had been. There had been that moment I had been dreading and anticipating. Severus and I had finally expressed our mutual love, but right at the moment when it had become absolutely forbidden. Peeling off my sodden and icy cold robes, I tossed them negligently in a corner, wrapped myself in a warm blanket, and collapsed in front of the fire I conjured with a burst from my wand.

His kiss lingered on my lips; phantom hands on my back and face. Would I have to wait and see if we both lived out the war before feeling him against me again? Before having another quiet evening working side by side, or visiting some random place to engage in childish play? I loved him. Though it had only been less than half an hour since I last saw him, I already missed him. His snarky humour, his sexy voice, and his brilliant intellect, which all contributed to his unique charm, were missed.

It would be far too easy to brood about this, I decided, indulging in a great deal of self-pity. How likely was it that both of us would survive the next year? He was a marked man on both sides of the war, for even some of the Order distrusted him. And me, as I had realized tonight, I had just gotten myself in far deeper than just the woman who was drawing the maps and plans. Soon they would all know me as an enemy of the Death Eaters.

Despite my long bath post-meeting, I ran myself another, masochistically using the scented bath potion Severus had crafted for me earlier. Soaking up the neck, I gazed at the lavender bottles all lined up along the marble edge of the bathtub and remembered the scowl on Severus' face when he made me promise not to tell anyone that he had brewed a batch of beauty product down there in that forbidding laboratory. A frown creased my face. They had not grown any emptier in all the time I had used them, which for some, like the hair things and the lotions, was daily. I dismissed it as some sort of refilling charm, and an obvious expenditure of time and energy on Severus' part.

Leaning back against the wall of the tub, soaking for a good long time until I was pruney, I began to feel the ice melt out of me, leaving a core of vile melancholy and churning loneliness. Then, something happened that would erase any thoughts of ease for more time than I would ever care to think about any time after.

A man's scream, a tearing, agonized, heart-wrenching sound that left my blood cold. It did not sound like Severus, and I believe that deep down I would have known had it been Severus, but someone had just produced that scream and I had to find out whom. I tore out of the bath, throwing on the shift I had left beside the tub, and my light cloak over that, since I realized that my winter cloak still lay in the snow at the apparition point. I stumbled down the stairs, missing more than I hit, and only at the bottom did I discover that I had snatched up my wand and a satchel I kept ready for emergencies.

The cold air hit me like a wall when I burst through the great doors, and crunched through the snow in direction of the quidditch pitch from where the sound had come. Much heavier footsteps followed me to where I found the source of the scream, on the other side of a thick copse of pines. I pushed iced branches away, numbing my bare fingers, my grip on my wand slippery, and burst through to an opening. Several hooded men turned to me, and raised their wands. I begged myself not to freeze in horror that they were all masked in the regalia of the Death Eaters, but fired off a stunning spell. It missed them all, and I dreaded what they would all hit me with when a mighty roar broke behind me. A pink umbrella flashed before my eyes, and the sky glowed red a moment. With a dozen loud cracks, the Death Eaters disapparated away, leaving me, Hagrid, and a moaning mass in the stained snow.

"Remus, can ye hear me?" Hagrid hurried to the man. I followed only a step behind, but what I saw lead me to believe that there was no possible way Remus Lupin could hear anything. He was clearly unconscious, but his face was still twisted in pain and fear, ghastly white. He was naked, but it only revealed more horrors. Large pieces of skin were missing from his chest and arms, his abdomen sliced to the bone, blood everywhere. His feet and hands were disfigured, like there was no bone left unbroken. Hagrid was violently ill in the snow, and my body threatened to join him, but I alone could do proper magic between the two of us.

I took hold of Remus as gently as I could, with a silent prayer that this had happened just off the Hogwarts grounds, and apparated straight to St Mungo's. This was far beyond the realm of Poppy Pomfrey's medicine. We appeared at the emergency apparition point, and I screamed for help. Several medi-wizards in their lab-robes flew to Remus, wrapping him in layers and layers of spells that I could not even begin to fathom.

One of the nurses helped me up off of the floor, and lead me down behind Remus' floating body, blood drops making a gory path in his wake.

"I'm going to need some information from you, Ma'am." I nodded in assent, still in shock, and she pulled a clipboard with a list out of thin air. "Patient's name, age, and conditions we should know about, allergies, next of kin?" I struggled for answers.

"Remus J… John? Lupin. I don't know how old he is, maybe mid-thirties? You should know that he's a werewolf." The nurse's mouth made an "O", and she scribbled it down. "His next of kin is his wife, Hestia Jones-Lupin." _Oh Hestia, I just saw the two of you together tonight. You were so happy…_

"Do you have any idea how he came to be in this condition, Ma'am?"

"I found him just off of the Hogwarts grounds, I heard his scream. There were Death Eaters, but they disapparated. I brought him straight here."

We got as far down the hall as the room where they had Lupin before she stopped me from going further.

"I'm afraid that I can't let you go in, but I'll go and see what the medi-wizards have planned." She disappeared into the windowless room with the chart. I stood in the hall alone, soaked with snow and ice, my wet hair from my bath frozen at the ends, my damp skin frosted. A shiver ran down my back. How long had it been since I'd heard that scream? Ten minutes? Fifteen? It was haunting, and here in the silence I could hear it ringing through my mind again and again.

How had the Death Eaters gotten Lupin? How long after I left him drinking at the table at 12 Grimmauld Place had they captured him? Did Hestia even know that her husband was missing? What had they done to that sweet man? And most importantly, could he be saved?

I sat down on the bench across the hall; my thin robes letting cold air seep in unnoticed by my tortured mind. After a little while longer the same nurse emerged, wiping a tear from her cheek. I stood up and stepped over to her, my vision cloudy around the edges.

"It doesn't look good, Ma'am. They're going to do all they can, but they're only human, they just won't have enough strength even between every medi-wizard in the hospital to put him back together."

I felt faint, but had almost fought through it to ask her another question when a cry rang down the hall. Hestia Jones-Lupin was stumbling towards the room, sobbing into the chest of a stricken Arthur Weasley.

"Sophie, you should go home, there's nothing we can do." He said gently. Molly Weasley was following them, with Ron, Harry and Hermione, and suddenly I felt superfluous. Walking numbly down the sterile halls of the hospital, I felt like my brain had been frozen, every breath laboured and shallow. Finding the apparation points, I went back to Hogwarts, and in the winter storm collapsed into the snow still stained with Remus' blood.

Something warm covered me; the wind stopped tearing at my skin and was replaced by softness. I felt lifted, and a hot liquid was poured down my throat. My whole body felt on fire, even in the cold, but everything was through a thick haze I couldn't fight my way out of. A hand the size of a rubbish can lid scooped my up, and I felt the tickle of a long beard against my shoulder. Hagrid had found me.

"I'm just amazed that she managed not to splinch herself into a thousand pieces. Really, Albus, your faculty may be brilliant, but they don't have the common sense to come out of the rain."

Muffled voices hovered over me, but the fire in my body urged me to slip back into unconsciousness.

"Now really, Poppy, cut her some slack. She did get Remus to St Mungo's fast enough to save him."

"Don't be modest, Albus, if you hadn't have burst into that hospital room and fed those medi-wizards the raw power to heal him it wouldn't have mattered how quick she was."

"It's Severus that I'm concerned about, though. Her fever will break eventually, but that night he locked himself up in his rooms, cancelled classes, and won't come out. I went to check on him yesterday and the man was far past drunk at 9 o'clock in the morning. Chased me out before I could even open my mouth, and he was muttering all the while about getting Remus and Sophie killed. He's a mess, Poppy, and what's more, no one's been able to manage to tell him that Remus is recovering, and that Sinistra will be fine in another few days."

"Oh Albus, why can't you just let them be? I saw them together the night he came back in pieces, and those kids really are in love. It must be agony for them."

A steely note entered Albus' voice.

"No, Poppy, don't even mention it again. We'll treat them separately. War has a price, and if part of their price is temporary loneliness so be it."

"Albus be reasonable! Look at them! Look at Professor Lupin! They're already risking their lives, why take all comforts from them. You would never ask Lupin to give up his wife, or expect Molly to leave Arthur for her safety-"

"Madame Pomfrey you do not fully comprehend the situation, and I would appreciate it if you would stop harassing me about it."

"Then try me, Headmaster, explain it to me. I think I deserve an explanation for once, patching people up no-questions-asked for the entire time I've worked for you."

The blurry faces at my side grew closer together, and when Dumbledore spoke it was in a whisper.

"Poppy, you know what Severus has been doing these past few years, and with whom. Did you think that once they realized he was still alive that they were just going to let him go? And when he suddenly has a brand new weakness, a pretty, young witch who upon torture can just happen to tell them the entire defense plan for the school? Them being together, being known to be together especially, could cost them their lives, and the lives of our students, and I won't accept that."

"Oh Headmaster, what are we going to do with them? To fall in love is painful enough, but this?"

"Keep Sophie safe, get her back up on her feet. I'll have the house elves sneak a sedating potion in Severus' food and see if I can reason with him when he wakes up."

"Give the man some credit. He may be drunk, but he's still a potion's master."

"Well, I'll think of something."

Dumbledore left the hospital wing, and the lights dimmed again. My lips felt dry as I peeled them apart, my mouth parched and voice rusty.

"Madame Pomfrey?" She was at my side in a second, bustling with a tray.

"Oh good, you're finally awake. I suppose you overheard all that? No, don't answer that or else I'll have to try to lie to the Headmaster and that never works. Now, take a spoonful of this." The potion was ghastly, and probably of a spiteful Snape's concoction. There was a rumour with the students that Professor Snape secretly kept a vat of dirty socks brewing in his laboratory to flavour potions, and I could believe it. I struggled to sit up while she continued, ignoring the down-right grimace on my face.

"Before you start asking questions I'll tell you that Remus will make a full recovery, thanks to Albus and you. He and Hestia, and a few Order members for protection, have gone to Wales until he's recovered. Now, Dumbledore has a substitute professor lined up until the end of the week, so you take another few days before you try to teach."

"How long have I-"

"Been here? Hm," She waved her wand at me, and a warm glow touched my forehead. "Five days or so. And don't you think I've forgotten that you snuck out last time." She jabbed the tip of the wand at me menacingly, and I tried not to look sheepish. "Tell you what, Miss I-Had-A-Raging-Fever-That-Only-Very-Recently-Broke. If you can walk out of here, you can stay out of here."

That was incentive enough for me to ignore the aching weariness I felt down to my toes, and push my unwilling legs out of the bed. One step. Two step. Doing well. Oops, should have minded that bed stand. So close to the door. Excellent.

"Very well, but I expect to see you back here right after supper tonight, and in the morning, for your potions." With a mighty scowl, she tossed me a fresh set of black robes that I, with great effort, managed over my head and fastened with shaking fingers.

Back in my rooms nearly an hour later, the house elves had clearly cleaned up all traces of last night's aborted bath, and yesterday's robes. Wait. Five-days-ago's robes and bath. I groaned aloud. Five days gone without Severus' company, only the rest of the war left.


	19. Shuffling the Quidditch Deck

Another week had passed. Christmas was only a few days away, and the students had just left the day before yesterday on the cheerfully whistling Hogwarts Express. Negative emotions ate at me. I envied the children going home to their families. I hated my father. Sometimes I even hated Dumbledore. I certainly hated Christmas.

I had enquired days ago into Severus' condition, and had been informed that he had sobered up and had made his classes. Classes were done now, though, and he hadn't been to a meal since. His emotions turned him to drinking to escape, the way mine drove me into my work. Struggling night after night on my plans for Hogwarts I dismissed my earlier achievements as naive at best. New ones formed over the base I had created, refined tactics, layers of defense for when the first ones fell, and a back-up for almost every situation possible. I beat my brains out for scenarios that I had yet to conceive, trying to concentrate on what I knew of Voldemort's work, and of what the Death Eaters were capable.

"Albus, think with me, I need to know more of the school's weaknesses." He folded his fingers over his desk in the weak, winter early-evening sunlight.

"Sinistra, may I remind you that I seem to be infamous as the man who couldn't even protect the philosopher's stone from 11-year-old children?" His dry tone I ignored, but the words stuck.

"Children… wait, Sir, I have an idea. I'll run everything by Harry Potter and Hermione Granger! They'll poke holes in what I've got because she's too smart for her own good, and he has actual experience with Voldemort, which is key since I can't just ask-" I stopped, and my excitement died.

"Since you can't just ask Severus?" He finished gently. I turned my face away from the old man, and watched Fawkes preen.

"I miss him, Albus. I love him, and it hurts. And what's worse is that I know he's hurting too. I know what he's doing down there in the dungeons to try and stop the pain."

"I've tried to talk to him, Sophie, believe me I have. We all have, but it's of no use."

"You mean everyone except me has tried." The bitterness was evident. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and looked at me from over his half-moon spectacles. Silence fell heavily, and neither of us broke it. After several ticks of the clock on the wall, he waved his hand airily and produced a sphere-shaped decanted filled with soft grey liquid, clearly labeled as Sober-Up Potion in large, plain, unmistakable letters.

"This changes nothing. You are not to consider this permission for romance, and I expect you to be at a meeting with Miss Granger and Mr Potter at 6'o'clock sharp in my office."

I could only stare at the bottle and the temporary freedom that went with it. Making record time down to the dungeon, I took a moment to conjure something additional for Severus. And then there was no answer at his door. There was still no answer. The third time that I tried, and was left without a response, was it.

"Severus Snape, will you stop being such a bloody pain in the ass and open this door!"

It swung open to reveal an empty chamber, dark and dank. Moving into the quarters, I passed several empty bottles, and it appeared as if the house elves hadn't been there for days. Then what I had mistaken for a pile of blankets on one of the chairs by the fire groaned, lifted a nearly empty bottle, drained it, and then fired it into the hearth with a cascade of glass shards showering the floor.

"Severus?"

"Got in, did you? Who is it this time? Pomfrey? McGonagall? Little Professor Sprout?" I walked in front of his chair, but his face was cradled in his shoulder.

"No, Severus, it's me." He squinted up blindly, "Here, drink this and then we'll talk." I placed the bottle in his hand, but he shoved it back at me.

"Talk? Why talk? Albus says we can't talk. Besides, what's there to talk about now? It's hurts too much to talk about, Sophie." He looked so sad, so broken. Everything he had was taken from him because of a bad choice in his youth, and even now so many years later it kept us apart. _Screw Albus._

"I know it hurts, Severus, I feel it too." I knelt down to be level with his head, and uncorked the bottle. He turned his face away from me, hiding it again. Decisively, I took a swig out of the bottle, and held it in my mouth. My fingers caressed his jaw, and guided him towards me so that my lips could meet his. The kiss was soft and delicate, and when he tried to deepen it, I released the potion slowly into his mouth, and then continued kissing him so that he'd have to swallow it. He broke apart from me quickly.

Shudders racked his body, his face turned red, and then he turned and vomited into a wastepaper basket nearby.

"Please, my wand." He croaked when he was done. I gave it to him, and he cast a series of cleansing spells over himself, his clothes, his body, his mouth, the basket, and the room. And then there stood Severus Snape, sober and clean, the man I loved.

"Oh, Sophie, I'm so embarrassed. I'm so sorry." There was honest shame in his eyes, which were no longer red-tinged and swollen.

"This is for you." He received the other item I had brought down to his dungeon with both hands, and a furrow creased his brow.

"A get-well card for my liver?"

"Well it has been sorely abused lately, Severus, promise me that you'll never do this to yourself again?" I itched to hold him, but neither of us moved.

"I promise. Sophie?" His voice was hesitant and rough.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

The distance between our bodies felt like a great valley that we were afraid to cross out of fear and respect for Dumbledore. The first kiss had been, after all, a medicine delivery method. Or at least that would be how I would plead my case if we had been caught. But did I not get some sort of reward for Severus standing here clean and sober? And furthermore, should I not be rewarded if I could manage to maintain my distance from him, and have him continue in that manner?

Instead of responding verbally, I put my careful mental convincing aside, and threw myself at him, arms catching around his slight body. He stood in shock a moment, before wrapping his long limbs around my back and shoulders, holding me close. He slid one long-fingered hand up my spine, and gently caressed the skin of my neck.

It was then that I first felt the whispers of our minds touching each other's at the same time. I could feel warm thoughts radiating off from him, brushes of words and senses lightly mingling with mine.

"Are you using…?" I trailed off as he placed a kiss under my ear.

"No," he whispered into it. "I thought you were." His mouth moved to under my jaw, my head tilting back to allow him easier access. Thoughts were becoming clearer to me, and I was assured that Severus did indeed love me by something more honest, more concrete, than words alone could ever be.

"So you mean neither of us are using legimency, but we're simultaneously experiencing it?" I began teasing his lips with feathery kisses.

"Appears so." He breathed back, a healthy pink in his normally pallid cheeks.

We indulged in a few minutes of fiery, forbidden kisses before the clock on the wall caught my attention. He felt my moment of anxiety, and held me loosely to catch our breaths.

"I have to be back in Dumbledore's office in less than ten minutes, and it will take most of that to get there, but Severus, we need to work this out now. These few moments were clearly a very dangerous and reluctantly given Christmas gift by Albus, and we can't expect to have this sort of privacy again for awhile."

They both felt the weight of their separation looming closely.

"You want me to promise not to drink myself into a pathetically wretched excuse for a human being?" A tiny, self-mocking smile touched his lips. She could feel his remorse for his past behaviour, and trusted that he would stay sober even without a promise.

"If it wouldn't be too much to ask, love. Could you also come to meals? I miss you. Albus never said we can't sit beside each other at meals and make small talk just for company's sake."

"It's not enough, Sophie."

"Of course it's not enough," I spat out in a manner that was most likely far too harsh. "But it's better than both of us pining away uselessly like we're in some sort of damned medieval romance. We've got work to do, and the sooner we win this damned war, and win in such away that both of us live through it, then the sooner we can tell our darling headmaster to go to hell with his interference."

His only answer was to steal a breathtaking kiss from my speech-impassioned mouth, and then we broke apart entirely. As our bodies distanced, our minds separated, and I could no longer touch his thoughts. Sadness and loneliness were created for something I had never know before this, but now missed deeply.

"You had better run if you're going to make your appointment." He spoke calmly. Was he feeling the same sense of loss I did? Our eyes met for a moment, and I was answered.

It did indeed take running to get to Albus' office, and when I opened the door four faces turned to look at me. Dumbledore's eyes hardened slightly.

"Professor Sinistra you seem flustered, perhaps you should take a moment to collect." I took his hint and quickly excused myself, hiding from the curious eyes of the three children.

Once alone, I found my lips kiss-swollen, my hair disheveled, and a faint red mark on my throat. Oops.

"A little enthusiastic, were we, Dear?" said the mirror cheekily. I ignored it and waved my wand to perform those spells that are a right of passage for young magical-kind, passed down from Hogwarts dorm room to Hogwarts dorm room. Composed and decent, I reentered and met with the students.

"Mr Weasley is joining us as well, Professor, if that it alright with you."

"Certainly, Headmaster, another mind to poke holes is another chance to refine our defenses."

Over the next hour the three teens went over how they personally would try to get around my plans with some astoundingly clear and rather novel methods. We discussed the counters to these until each student was stumped.

"Bloody hell, I can't think not one single way of getting into the castle with all this." Mr Weasley waved a hand over the large sheets of parchment.

"Yeah, they'll cancel Quidditch before a Death Eater gets into Hogwarts now, unless some filthy Slytherin already had the Dark Mark!" Mr Potter agreed vehemently. _Cancel Quidditch…_ The thought nagged at me, along with noting for the thousandth time the enmity between houses annually bemoaned by the Sorting Hat since trouble began.

"Right, before any Death Eaters get in." Harry repeated, staring at me like I'd suddenly gone mad.

"Did I say that out loud? Sorry, mind was wandering."

"You wouldn't really, would you?" Ron's face had been bleached white, horror in his brown eyes.

"No… no… not cancel…" Hermione watched me closely as I mumbled out scant reassurance. "Alright, I think we're done here. Thank you, Mr Potter, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, for all your help, you may return to Gryffindor dormitory now."

Harry and Ron were shaking their heads, still slightly nervous I'd convince Dumbledore to scratch off the Quidditch season. Miss Granger spoke loudly as they were leaving, shooting a meaningful glance at me as she spoke.

"Come along, Ron, and let's play a round with your self-SHUFFLING deck of playing cards." The emphasis and the expression started my brain going again.

Shuffling. Shuffling the deck. Quidditch, Shuffle the Quidditch deck. House enmity. Shuffle the Quidditch players so that they were randomly placed on teams with new names and no affiliations. Lose the game points becoming house points. Lessen the aggressive rivalry between houses, and force them to learn to cooperate. If they want to win, then they'd damn well learn to get along with their then-rival-now-aligned teammates.

"It's the one way to unite the students of Hogwarts and end the fracturing!" I announced triumphantly to a bemused Dumbledore.

"May I have the pleasure of knowing how it is you plan on accomplishing this, Sophie?"

"Shuffle the Quidditch deck, Albus. Mix the teams together so that they're all inter-house, and that games have no affect on house points. Give the teams new names, Durfinfickle, Ickleborg, whatever, and new colours. The kids'll have to learn to get along and stop this silly bickering. Is this making any sense?"

He adjusting his spectacles and peered at me. Several of the portraits of former headmasters launched expressions as disgusted and horrified as Mr Weasley's had been earlier.

"Are you certain you were a Ravenclaw and not a Gryffindor, Sophie? Because the one who is responsible for this tampering will have to be extremely brave."

"Just blame it all on me, Albus, none of the kids are that attached to me anyway. Maybe it'll shift some of the student hate, and the owls from angry parents, away from poor, grouchy Severus."

"So whom do we force with whom?" He asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Well, we can't do anything stupid like put two Seekers on one team, or have a team with no Keepers, so that will make it simpler. Let's put Draco Malfoy as Seeker on the same team that Ron Weasley is Keeper, and head off that irritating "Weasley is Our King" song. Oh, and let's keep the captains of the old teams the captains of the new teams, no point stripping good managers of their earned positions. The rest I'll leave up to you and Madame Hooch, I'm certain she'll make some good recommendations, and let me know before we post it."

I was flushed with the joy that comes out of careful planning and organization to those unfortunate enough to be born with the urge to arrange details and make lists. As I left his office, he was still chewing my proposal over in his mind.

_And at least it'll distract him from discussing my mussed state when I first arrived from Severus' chambers…_


	20. New Year's Eve

Christmas morning was a quiet affair in my lonely tower, watching snow swirl past the glass while I was perched on the lushly cushioned window-seat. The tea cradled in my hands sent up fragrant echoing puffs of softly rising steam, fogging the pane in a ghostly circle. There was a whisper of strawberry in the leaves, and I had my suspicions about who had sent up the delicately-painted box of tea currently resting in its opened wrappings under the Christmas tree.

Such a simple gift, impossible to call inappropriate. What was a gift of fine tea between co-workers? And yet as I savoured it in gentle sips, my mind traversed back over the past few months, the blossoming relationship with a rather complicated man. One finger absently traced my lips in an unthinking echo of Severus' common motion when he was thinking. How had he received my carefully pressed and framed maple leaf? It had been a souvenir from our time spent in the middle of no where, when I had first allowed him into my mind.

A small rapping at the door broke me out of my reverie, and Albus stood on the other side with a peaceful smile.

"Doing the Christmas morning rounds, Sir?" He pulled a small package from behind his holly-green velvet robes, the end of his beard swishing around the ruby ribbon tied in a loopy bow on the box.

"For you, dear." We entered the chamber, and he sat by the fire as I put the box up near my ear to shake it like a child would. "No!" He said quickly, and I looked at him quizzically.

"You're a very strange man, Albus." Untying the ribbon, a fuzzy nose peeked out from under the lid followed by a tiny mew.

"I am afraid that Mrs Norris had an indiscretion with a student's half-kneazle, and delivered a dozen kittens under Mr Filch's desk a few weeks ago."

"With that sort of lineage, it'll be one smart kitty." I pulled the lid completely off the box, and examined the bright-eyed little creature peering back up at me. It was a yellow tabby, slightly bandy-legged, a squashy face and had ruddy gold eyes. He was adorable.

"A kitten won't replace Severus' company," I reminded him carefully. He sighed, blowing moustache out of his lips.

"No, dear, but a kitten is fine company in general. To be honest, several staff members have already received similar company this morning. Not all of them seemed as pleased as you."

"You're a very bad man, Albus, foisting kittens off as Christmas gifts when it would be rude to refuse. Why didn't you just let Filch find a home for them?" I let one finger trail through the soft fur, and delighted at the sensation, transferred the animal from the box to my hands.

"Mr Filch works hard for us, and it's the least I can do," he lied smoothly.

"What you really mean is that you went for your traditional Christmas Eve ten-pin bowling round against him and lost the wager on who would win?"

"Cynicism does not suit one so young, Sophie."

"Come on, Albus, I saw Filch wearing the sparkly pink waistcoat last Christmas when he lost."

"So what will you name this little rascal?" The subject changed towards the beastie examining my fingers with needle-sharp teeth.

I thought a moment and said, "No idea, something ridiculous, no doubt. So tell me about your other visits, how are the rest of the staff this Christmas? Tea?" He nodded in response to my last query, and I prepared him some of my prized gift from Severus.

"Well, if by the rest of the staff you mean Severus?" He shifted his spectacles down over his nose and continued, "Yes, I thought so. He's pacing and brooding, but hasn't had a drink since I sent you down. He got the grey tabby, if I recall correctly. Snorted at me once, but accepted her all the same."

He unwrapped my gift to him, which was several pairs of red socks in soft, hand-knit wool, then he departed to go visit the recovering Remus Lupin. _Hope Remus and Hestia are ready for a new pet_.

And so the Christmas break passed serenely. I spent a great deal of it amusing my new friend with ribbons and twinkling, star-shaped tree baubles on the floor, and the rest of the time preparing for the potentially rocky upcoming term.

The one interruption followed an invitation to the Order of the Phoenix New Year's Eve party, and I found myself at 12 Grimmauld Place drinking eggnog of dubious virtue, and avoiding the electric-blue glance of Mad-Eye Moody, who had hinted towards where couples were dancing. One life-threatening waltz at the Yule Ball with the Moody-Imposter had been more than enough for this witch.

The Order were taking that last moment of innocent fun before the war caught up with us all, and the urge to forget Voldemort and live recklessly for one last night was nearly palpable. Bill and Fleur Weasley had announced tonight that Fleur was expecting, and Molly had not stopped tearing up with pride all night. Remus was present, sitting in a comfortable chair by the fire, absently stroking the hand of Hestia Jones as they chatted with Kingsley Shacklebolt. Nymphadora Tonks and Charlie Weasley had joined Albus and Minerva on the dance floor, stepping slowly to a warbling holiday love song belting out of an enchanted wireless. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had vanished about an hour ago, without Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley following suit shortly after.

I stood against a wall, not unnoticed, but currently unengaged in any sort of conversation, pleased just to be watching the party without participating. Then there came the red-haired twin bombardment.

"Professor Sinistra!"

"Sophelia Sinistra!"

"Sophelia!"

"Sophie! May we call you Sophie?"

"We're out of Hogwarts, and she's snogged our brother, I'd say that puts us on first name basis!"

"Soph, baby, we have a proposition for you."

"The best sort of proposition!"

"It's in both of our areas of, shall we say, expertise?"

"Rumour has it you're in charge of Hogwart's defense."

"And rumour also has it we've got a whole line of defensive equipment ripe for market."

"What say we put two-"

"-and two together?"

"Gentlemen!" I raised my hands to them, stopping a seemingly never ending flowing of words. "And you may call me Sophie, so long as the words _Soph, baby_ are never again uttered within my hearing. Now what are you on about?"

They pulled out a glossy orange catalogue with _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ embossed in a luridly fluorescent shade of green, and flipped to the somewhere about four-fifths through. There on the page in a more sensible layout and colour palate was entry after entry of protective equipment, some bearing a red-stamp reading _Auror Endorsed Quality_. The twins looked more serious, and I noticed for the first time how much older, more mature, and weary they were when compared to the carefree boys I taught not too long ago.

"For the safety of Hogwarts, we're willing to sell whatever you would like, below cost."

"We would honestly prefer it all be free, but we just don't have the funds, so we'll give it to you as low as we can handle."

"That's a very generous offer, Fred and George, and at the risk of sounding pretentious, I'm really proud of you two." The catalogue I shrunk and placed in my pocket, and then I pulled them both in for a grateful hug. "These things could save the lives of the children."

"Whoa, whoa, you don't have to snog us! A simple thank you would suffice."

"Now if you'll excuse us, Soph-Baby, we have other ladies to presume upon." I cringed at that horrid phrase slipped mid-sentence.

"Now don't you go proposing to the wrong one, Forge, Angelina wouldn't speak to me for days, and then where would we be?"

"Sure enough, Gred, sure enough."

They sauntered off jauntily towards where two girls, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell, sat chatting by the table. Simultaneously, the twins went to their knees and raised little velvet boxes open to their dumbfounded girlfriends. It was too far for me to hear what the boys were saying, but the Angelina let out a joyful laugh, and threw herself at the boy, tumbling them to the floor. Katie squealed a little, and her chosen twin slipped the engagement ring on her shaking hand.

Mrs Weasley was rapturous, the beaming woman's chest so full of joy it appeared like a robin's, her red holiday robes giving it the perfect hue. She caught me later to let me know about the Order meeting in early January.

"There seems to be a problem with your coin, dear, so bring it along and I'll have Arthur take a look."

"My coin, Molly? Are we paying member dues or something that I didn't know about?"

"Oh good heaven's no! The coin that you were given when you were inducted as a member of the Order, the one with the date and times of the meetings. Did you not receive it? I gave it to Severus and he promised to give it to you that night."

"That… night… oh!" I felt the blood rush to my face. Swirling snow, bare, wind-roughened trees, and soft, warm lips seeking mine. A hand slipped something into my pocket, barely noticed. "You know, I bet I just misplaced it with all the to-do of the attack on Remus. It will turn up, I'll ask one of the house elves to help me search."

I did just that when I arrived home after finally escaping an embarrassing episode to do with a tipsy Hagrid and some enchanted mistletoe. The skin on my cheek where he kissed still felt a little raw from his bristly whiskers. Shedding my party robes and putting on a warm nightdress, I gave the chamber a quick look over, but no coin was in sight.

"A house elf, please!" I called to the empty room, and snapped my fingers. Instantly a funny green creature popped into sight, with large floppy ears barely visible underneath a mountain of knitted caps.

"Dobby, at your service, miss," he said respectfully, bowing his head so that the mountain wobbled precariously.

"Dobby, I need to find an object that looks like a galleon. It was in my robe's pocket a little while ago. Could you please tell me where it would have gone, if the robes had been sent down to laundry?"

"Certainly, miss. One of us would be putting it in an envelope, and dropping it into your staff mailbox."

"Thank you, Dobby, you've been very helpful. You can go now, if you would like." He caused the mountain to tremble again, and vanished.

It had been enough to spark my memory of a blank envelope containing only a galleon, received shortly after that night. I'd been confused at who would be posting me a single galleon, but in the end had just tossed it into my money purse. _Oh no! What if I've spent it?_ Raiding the purse was short work, and after sorting through gold coins for one with a date and time instead of numbers for several minutes, I reminded myself that I am, in fact, a witch. A wave of the wand, and one coin floated tremulously up above the others. _Success_.

Though now a certain childish part of me sulked disappointedly inside for a few self-indulgent moments.

_At such a time as that, it would have been more romantic if he'd dropped something like a ring that had been a family heirloom, or a seashell from his beach getaway as a memento for me to cherish into my pocket, instead of something Molly had badgered him into giving me. He must have known he wouldn't have been able to give it to me after The Kiss._

A sharply biting kitten brought me out of my pout, and I laughed as the fuzzy little creature began batting at coins that shone like molten liquid in the dancing and flickered fire light. It had been a good night, though Severus had never turned up at the party. _After the war, we'll stroll through the door arm-in-arm for the world to see. We'll get caught under the mistletoe, and everyone will cheer as he dips me back almost to the floor for a passionate public kiss. We'll get married, and I'll have Ollivander fit a wedding ring to Severus' wand since he lost his wedding ring finger._

Lost in my hope-filled day-dreaming, I seemed to have pushed out the thoughts that one of both of us could die before then. Our mistletoe audience would have fewer familiar faces in it. And Ollivander was gone, having been found floating in the Thames after his disappearance over a year ago. For one happy day-dream, though, I forgot.

New Year's Day, Mad-Eye Moody was discovered in his house, dead. It was a sign that a new year had indeed come, and it would be a year of loss and struggle.


	21. Bleak Fury?

The February grays had set in, and everything was bleak. The snow had eroded away, and the naked trees now stuck up in the bare, frozen dirt. Students dragged themselves to classes unrecognizable to what they had been before, as training sessions for war-readiness had taken the place of academia. Professors spent more time in the dimly lit teacher's lounge, blue cigarette smoke making curls above their heads. The Order members sat in meetings with dully-stunned expressions, occasionally addressing comments to people who had recently been killed, and then falling silent when they remembered their companion had been lost.

I had taken to abusing several sleeping potions every night. It was just a matter of time. It was like the Death Eaters had a list of every member of the Order. It was frightening.

These little flaws were allowed to slide; we were living in a different time than we had even just months before. If I snuck a few bottles out of Madame Pomfrey's stores now and then, well, who could complain? One exception to the new trend towards personal dependencies was Severus. Always precocious, only he appeared normal, having already conquered his fling with alcoholism.

Still, my safe little world had collapsed. Any thought of being an outsider member of the Order had vanished. People who had only the most remote connection to the Order had been killed with the same enthusiasm as those in the thick of things. So there I sat, my name on the death roster, a desk full of confidential plans, and a brain full of secrets. I was just a damned astronomy professor, not a fighter. My courage was failing me and I can feel the fear smother any confidence I had at my _talents_. What a fool I was to think I could protect Hogwarts. After all, I had been a Ravenclaw, and while the Gryffindors sharpened the war axes, I was supposed to be the rational one.

Hell, who could even call me an astronomy professor now? Most of my classes had turned into around the clock surveillance shifts of students with telescopes examining the school grounds. Not that we had seen much so far except perhaps the midnight wanderings of stray cats and owl, the confused pets of war victims.

Today had not been much of an improvement over any other day of the past couple months. Woke up with a headache and a sour taste in my mouth. Read the Daily Prophet over breakfast, but did not linger morosely over my tea, as I had been wont to do recently. This was the sort of morning to walk out to the lake and survey the depressing landscape, which provided the setting for the wizarding world's fatal dramas. It was so cold that the wind snatched my breath away, chapping my lips with every hoarse breath. Crunching footsteps echoed towards me the long pathway, but I did not turn to see who approached behind.

"Ever have those days where you feel like your soul is dying?" I asked the lake blandly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Dark, rich tones answered with another question. The voice was like spiritual coffee, filling numb spots with warmth and life, accompanied by the fragrant scents of vitality lacking from my pale existence. I knew what he wanted to talk about.

"What's the point? She wasn't much of a mother alive, so why should I mourn her death?"

"Might you mourn the death of the hope that someday she would have welcomed you back?" An ungloved hand reached for my hand, and I shoved mine deep into the coat pockets. For a moment, he looked almost hurt.

"Snape, you should go before Dumbledore finds us alone together." The bleakness in my words was apparently the last straw for him. He took hold of both my shoulders and pulled me to fully face him. Black eyes met my steely gray, and did not waver.

"Sophie, what the _hell_ is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, there's just no point to it. We can't. That's it." I tried to look away but he caught my chin firmly.

"You used to have passion and intensity. You used to blind me with your intelligence. Now all I see in your eyes is dull resignation." He whispered below the howl of the winds, each word taking flight and gaining momentum until it shattered icicles on my heart. "Stop the damned sleeping potions- no, don't deny it. Someone has to make them for Poppy, and you should be clever enough to figure who it is. Everyone else may overlook these things, but all of this is destroying you, Sophie."

Part of me wanted to cry, but it was buried deeply under my numbness. With a catch in my breath, I pulled my hand out of my pocket and held it out towards him. He took it gravely, and led me back to the castle, only releasing it when we were within sight of the doors. Following him out of a simple lack of will to stray, we went up to Albus' office, and Severus burst through the door.

"Headmaster, I'm taking her away for a day, and hang the consequences! Just look at her, Albus, look at her!"

Dumbledore had risen at our intrusion, but now strode purposely towards me. I watched him passively through apathetic eyes. A nod so slight moved his head that it was barely perceivable, but Severus apparently understood, because he did not become stormy at the next words.

""Of course not, Professor Snape, that's entirely out of the question and you know it. Now get out of my office and let me return to work."

Thankfully he had so covertly covered his affirmation, because meanwhile the green light of the fireplace announced a most unwelcome visitor. Minister of Magic, and recent widower, Cornelius Fudge dusted himself off at Dumbledore's hearth.

"Headmaster, I need to have a word with you about the education policy on- what is that bitch still doing here employed? I've told you on several occasions to terminate her tenure here."

Oh, I saw red.

With several quick steps, I flung my fist at his nose and took a moment's satisfaction in the crunching sound before all hell broke loose. When he recoiled, I shoved him backwards to the floor, screaming:

"My mother lies dead less than a day, and you're out on business!" I reached for the fire iron, but it vanished from my hand with a puff of purple smoke, so I hit him again with my hand. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Severus tried to sooth me, but he was being too gentle, and I kept breaking free of his grip on my wrist. Fighting his hold, I struggled out my wand, and pointed it at the fat, barely conscious body in the awful acid green bowler hat. Severus slapped the wand free of my hand, picked me up and threw me over his shoulder with surprising strength. I kicked at his chest, taking childish pleasure knowing he would wear bruises from interfering with me cursing my so-called father to smithereens. He nudged aside Fudge with a swift kick; hastily floo powdered me into my office, and pushed the door shut with his behind until it clicked

Taking me down off of his shoulder, I still fought him, and he pinned me against the door so that I could barely struggle. I was too enraged to question his peculiar behaviour, or the gleam in his eyes. No, my eyes were too blinded by fury to notice much anything else except where I was and where I was not. And I was no longer in the room with my wand or _that_ man. I lifted my arm to strike Severus, to push him away, anything to get him to release me. He caught it easily, and held my hand in his, against the door. I tried with the other one, and the same results ensued. Only vaguely did I notice the spot where his ring finger should have been. Suitably disarmed, all I could do was thrash my shoulders, and try to step on his feet, or kick his shins. But he was a brick wall, deaf to my screams and unmoving to my inflictions.

"Calm down. You cannot assault that man. As much as we would all love to, he'll have us all in Azkaban before you could say the word _mistrial_." He did not release me, but his words broke through the red film, and my mind cleared.

I found myself squashed between Severus and the door, my hands in his, my chest rising and falling dramatically as I panted. The anger raged still, but now it was in control. He examined my face, and I watched him do it.

"Severus." I whispered, my voice throaty and deep with unspent emotion. Here was a man I could love, and not fear betrayal and abandonment. Here was a person I had fallen in love with so slowly and so completely that extricating myself would be impossible. I loved him. I loved Severus. The differences between him and the man on the floor in my chambers only drew this realization more into the light. And he loved me. Even without him saying it to me, I could see it in his eyes. His chest moved against mine, his breathing faster and deeper, his head hung down above mine.

Still panting, still sweating, still bubbling with emotion, I went up on my toes, and found his mouth. He jerked back in surprise, but after less than a second he joined me enthusiastically, his lips on mine. It was fierce, passionate, but careful and neat. I smiled against his lips, and he took the opportunity to explore my mouth, his tongue soft and warm, tasting of coffee. It was delicious. I was alive, all fires burning.

A knock on the door, less than a hand's span from where my head pressed against the wood, brought us back to reality. For a moment I sincerely hoped that neither of us had been making any noises that could have been heard through the door. He moved back, and a rush of cool air flooded between us. Releasing my hands, he took a moment and smoothed my hair from where it had become disheveled. His own black locks had been safe from me, what with my hands out of commission. When he was certain all was presentable, he stepped back out of sight, and I opened the door as composed as I had ever been.

There stood Hermione Granger, an expression of confusion was swept away as she schooled her features a moment too late.

"Can I help you Miss Granger?" She waved a black sheet, clearly a star chart.

"I was wondering if I could go over this chart with you, since I didn't get it all correct." I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. Come hell or high water, if she did not get perfect, she was unhappy.

"I'm a little busy at the moment, Miss Granger, but I have that exact star chart with all the correct answers, and more importantly, the detailed explanations of why these are the correct answers, in an older text book that I don't use anymore." I turned into the office, to a bookshelf by my desk, and she followed me in. I heard her soft gasp as she found Professor Snape lounging in a chair by the opposite wall in his white shirtsleeves.

A chuckle that did not carry across the room to her, but was audible to me responded:

"Surely you did not think my teaching robes were part of my skin, did you, Miss Granger?" The voice in which he spoke was cold and crisp despite the aforementioned chuckle.

"No, Sir." She responded hastily.

"Then why are you staring at me in such an unnecessary manner?" She shook herself out of whatever shock held her, and answered again.

"I was merely surprised to see you here, Professor."

"You should not be. I have a right to meet with my colleagues without your judgment. Five points from Gryffindor." Granger looked outraged, but smothered it.

_Wise girl,_ I thought with a twinkle. My mind had been so bleak and hopeless of late that I thought the twinkle had almost died.

I pulled the enormous book off of the shelf, and handed it to her. It was heavy, and the pure joy of _book_ arose in her eyes at the sight of it. Oh yes, certainly something everyone in this room acknowledges.

"Try chapter thirty-six." She turned to leave, and I remembered something. "Oh, and try chapters sixty-eight through seventy-two for some golden information for your essay." She smiled, and left, closing the door behind her.

An awkward silence fell over the room. I tested my emotions. Under the school-teacherly façade I had just plastered on, I was still bubbling with rage at my father, and still utterly enchanted by kissing Severus. I could not decide which should win out, but tingled at merely feeling again.

Fortunately, Snape made the choice for me by springing out of the chair, pouncing, and guiding me back against the wall with a wicked grin.

"Now where were we?" His voice was dark and velvety. He leaned down and captured my unresisting mouth, wrapping his hands about my waist. I let my fingers curl into his shirt, slowly drifting up until they touched bare Snape-neck. He broke off the kiss with a gasp, both of our eyes flying open. "Damn it, are your fingers ever cold!"

I laughed breathily into his neck, the first laugh in weeks, and wrapped the digits back in the fabric of his shirt. He pulled me into another kiss, and the anger within me just melted away, a calm reassurance replacing it.

"I think I'm ready to go back and face that bastard," I finally sighed against his shoulder. He hugged me tightly, and warmly kissed the tip of my nose.

"Have you forgotten? Albus agreed to give us a day away, and I for one do not plan on wasting it in this damned castle waiting for Voldemort to check us off his list. Fudge can wait, because you and I have some catching up to do."


End file.
